


The Path Homeward

by orphan_account



Series: Symphony of Salvation [1]
Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 54,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He called her his sun, told her that he was her moon, that he reflected the light of her hope. She laughed at him, laughed away their partial trust, their broken past, and smiled. He wasn't the moon, she said, he was the stars, because sometimes the moon vanished, but the stars were never gone, and they weren't cold. They burned with a light, just like his soul burned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mercenary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kasan_Soulblade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasan_Soulblade/gifts).



> I was inspired by an author here, long, long ago to start writing. They don't know me and they never will, but I want to dedicate this story and all in its series to them regardless because without them I would not be writing. So thank you to Kasan_Soulblade for their generous contribution to my writing life. Your Symphonia stories utterly changed who I am as a person. 
> 
> So, if they wonder why I have gifted this to them, even though they do not know me and they have long since passed from my fandom, that is why. Thank you for encouraging me to be bold and write with everything that I have. 
> 
> To my other readers, welcome. I sincerely hope you enjoy my writing, this attempt at creating a story that people can enjoy. If you have any questions or comments, feel free to contact me at my tumblr. I'm going to rewrite my profile to include links. 
> 
> ~Derris-Emblem/Secondhand Soul

He came like a ghost, an apparition at dusk, something out of a storybook, save that he was not the knight, he was the villain. 

His appearance was unseemly, his boots caked in thick, yellow mud, the rest of him so dusty that he appeared to have been bleached. He walked with a limp so that his bootstraps jangled, and his scabbard slapped against the skin of his thighs, but he didn’t appear to care as he wearily dragged himself over the threshold of the Inn. 

Once, his hair might have been a dark red, though the sun had caused his hair to fade, and dirty as he was, it made it look almost brittle; as if running your fingers through it would cause it to crumble to dust. That hair was longer than the hair of most men; so long it obscured his black eyes. That likely had something to do with the rest of his appearance, right down to the stubble on his square chin. He was a man who traveled ceaselessly, who didn’t have the luxury of bath and razor. 

There was an unfriendly look about him, though she wasn’t sure what it was. Perhaps it was his grim face, how his black eyes slid over her like an ice floe, no friendliness, no relief, held within their glassy depths. It might have been the way he stood, a hand stroking the hilt of his sword, the way he towered over her despite his limp, an unmistakable tension in between his shoulder blades. It may have even been the way he smelled, of smoke, and blood, and the musk of sweat, though he wasn’t the first sell-sword whose pungent odor she’d had the pleasure of sampling. 

Yet there was something unmistakably hostile about him, something that made her freeze up and stare at him a long moment, and it wasn’t the monstrous canine who sat at his feet, either, staring at her with eerily intelligent eyes. 

“You can’t bring your, um, dog in here,” she said, eyes flickering away from the beast to look back up into the sell-sword’s face. “It’s against inn policy. We have a stable, if you’d like to keep him there. “

The look he gave her might have curdled blood, and Anna suspected that when he opened his mouth it would be to curse her out, but instead she found him to be … Well, not polite, but certainly more articulate than their usual fare. “I will pay extra to have him with me.” 

Even his voice was harsh, she noted, though surprisingly deep. He didn’t look to have the right sort of build to have that deep voice, though it wasn’t as gravely as she was expecting, either. “I’m …” One look at the animal, whose tail had started to beat the ground hopefully, and Anna gave in. “Sure, fine. Anything else?” 

He didn’t scare her, couldn’t scare her. After all, she was an Inn-keeper’s daughter. Men more surly than this one had come through here, men who she’d had to beat off with cooking utensils from the kitchen in the back, who’d smelled of booze as well as sweat, and had fouled up the place with their very presence. This man looked to be of the unsociable sort, but as he limped toward her, she had the sudden impression that he was the sort to keep out of the way, and that was the kind of customer her father liked best.  
“We are in need of a bath … and a warm meal,” as she stepped closer, the smell almost became overpowering; Anna tried to stop her face from scrunching up in disgust. 

“And a shave?” she offered, watching as he absently reached up a hand to touch his face. 

“Indeed,” he muttered, running his hand absently over his face, his manner surprising her a bit – it was almost as if he were surprised to find the stubble on his chin. “I have been out in the wilds for some time. A shave … Certainly cannot hurt.” 

He spoke more to himself than to her, and Anna saw his dog move to his side, nuzzling its massive snout into the hand that rested limply at his side, the one not constantly caressing the hilt of his blade. She blinked at the beast slowly before shaking her head and smiling invitingly at her guest. “How long will you be staying?” 

“I will pay for one night for now,” he scratched between his creature’s eyes, resting the length of his forearm comfortably on the beast’s massive head. “Tomorrow we will discuss further room and board. Right now I simply … Want to sleep …” He trailed off and she realized that he truly did look exhausted, which would make sense if he had been traveling through the highland, as his appearance suggested. 

What a queer man, not to take the road. 

“Okay, so,” she leaned down and hoisted their treasure box onto the counter, followed by the guest register. “Plus dog, you owe me, with the meal, bath, and razor, about … 700 in the standard currency.” She leaned toward him despite the smell, keeping a smile on her face. “How’re you going to pay?” 

The man sighed, though it was more of a soft puff of air escaping through his teeth than an audible noise. Without making a sound, he reached down an untied something from his belt that was hidden underneath the folds of his voluminous cloak. There was a jingling noise, and then a heavy thump as a coin purse was tossed to the counter as if it weighed next to nothing, when really Anna had never seen a purse so bloated with coin in all her life. 

Smoothly, he bent forward and carefully selected a few coins, sorting them out in his palm before dropping them gingerly onto the counter. “I trust this will be enough?”  
The coins were all gold. 

She quickly looked up into his eyes, keeping the shock from her face, though only barely. “I just need you to sign the register, then, Sir, and I’ll show you to your room.”  
She pushed the quill and ink well already on the desk toward him, and flipped open the register to a clean page – After all, he was the first guest that they’d had this week, hand, in fact, for the entirety of this month. 

He gave her a long look that she could not read before he reached out and grabbed the quill, quickly scratching his initials into the register. It was a habit of mercenaries, most of them were illiterate, to sign with their initials or an “X”, and she supposed this man was no exception to that rule, though he must be truly skilled to make such a large sum on his own. 

Pushing the book back toward her, he carelessly gathered his coin purse to secure to his belt loop once more while she placed his contribution into her family’s treasure chest and slid it back to its secure holding area. Gingerly, she reached out to grab the set of keys that were by the door to the kitchen, which looked like a gaping maw in the twilight, though she would soon have to light a lamp to feed the hungry man. 

“Well, just this way, Sir,” she said, glancing to the canine, who stood with a great doggy sigh, allowing Anna to see that he was he man’s pack animal as well as companion.  
She lead him from the common room, down a side hall where the guest’s rooms were, and opened the door closest to the entrance, to make it easier for her brothers to carry him water. “I’ll send my brothers with a few washtubs and some hot water for you soon, sir. Expect dinner presently.”

And then, Anna left him to his devices. 

XxX

He sunk into the water, obliged, for once, to allow himself the luxury of soaking. Mundane tasks like bathing really held no enchantment for one such as him; he truly was too business- like to indulge such childish urges often, but just this once he felt like he had earned it. 

Noishe sat in front of the hearth where he had stoked a fire, drying his wet fur in the blaze, staring at him with his keen eyes, as if poking at him for his desire to enjoy himself.  
“Hush,” he chided. “I have spent the last two weeks hiding in the woods and will have none of your usual backtalk.” 

Perhaps his sanity was to be questioned, talking to the great canine, who was at least a wolf and a half in height, with bat-like ears, shaggy green and white fur, and a bushy tail that had a way of swaying slowly when the beast was contented. Yet Noishe was his most constant of companions, his most stable of friends, someone upon whom he knew he could always count, even when all others abandoned him. 

He looked away from the animal, scanning the room carefully, charting every possible entrance and exit in case of emergency. It was not particularly lavish, the walls were a dull brown and the floor was crude wood, but it had a working hearth and what looked to be a very comfortable bed, all the amenities he imagined he would need. The single window and door would serve as the only entrance and exit to the room, and on the first floor he would have easy enough access to both, should he need to sneak out without his companion for some reason. 

It truly was simple, but then again, he was not a man of great need. 

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the scents of this place to fill his nostrils. Wet dog was currently a prominent scent, though it was overpowered by the smell of cooking meat, and the cool breeze coming in through his window, the smell of the lake land. He chewed on his lip, basked in his other senses, feeling he warm water slowly grow cold as time passed, but at least he could no longer feel the grime clinging to every orifice of his body. 

He stood, picking up the towel that had been left on the floor for him, and quickly dried himself off before wrapping it around his waist. 

“Noishe, where did they put the hand mirror, did you see?” he looked toward his companion, who motioned toward a small, bedside dresser that he had somehow overlooked during his examination of the room. 

He picked it up, reached for the razor they had left, and went about the business of shaving himself, though he imagined it would burn in the morning. Really, razor burn was hardly the worse of pains, his body attested to that, riddled with scars from hundreds of battles, the trophies of his victories and grim reminders of his defeat. 

Pleased that he was clean shaven, he returned to the business of finding somewhat clean clothing to wear, replacing his scabbard on his belt and sitting down on the bed, arranging the blade beneath him. It wasn’t as soft as it had looked, he discovered, but he cared little, because anything was better than soggy underbrush or the branches of trees (sleeping sitting up was a skill he had acquired long ago). 

“Now all that is left is to wait for the food, it seems,” he sighed through his nose, mussing up his own wet hair and glancing toward Noishe with a thoughtful expression on his face. “This place, it’s … quaint, isn’t it?” 

Noishe snorted in agreement. 

“Yes, that is what I thought, too. Palmacosta and Asgard were both so … lively,” he paused, rolling the adjective on his tongue. “This place seems sleepy in comparison, though I find I do not terribly mind.” 

Hardly, he thought with a snort, listening to the sounds coming from the other room, the people who owned the Inn creeping about, doing their various duties. Once or twice in that time, he home settled, the wood creaking and sighing with age. Such sounds were a comfort to him, a reminder of pleasant places and quaint people from his youth.  
“Though something does bother me,” he said with a slight frown. “Why are there no other visitors in this Inn?” 

This town, though not prone to tourism as was Asgard, and devoid of Palmacosta’s urban sprawl, should sill have more visitors than it did, especially foot traffic from the pilgrimages. Many people went to gaze upon he Holy Ground of Kharlan, where the Tower of Salvation stood when he world was blessed by Cruxis, and so people should be heading from Asgard to Hima, and yet … 

There was a knock on his door and he stood, answering it, finding the boy who’d brought him the water and the razor staring up at him, a tray of food in his hand. It was some manner of beef, and a crust of bread, as well as a side of vegetables, and a tankard of what could only be assumed to be ale, but that was more than enough for him. Swiftly, he took the tray from the lad, nodded his thanks and shut the door swiftly behind him, returning to the bed to sit and chew thoughtfully.

Noishe, the great mooch, padded over cheerfully to sit at the foot of the bed. He keened at Kratos Aurion, who simply snorted and cast Noishe half the crust of bread. “Fine, you great mooch. Whatever I do not eat, rest assured you can finish.” 

He kept his promise, leaving the carrots untouched, watching the beast slobber them up as if they were the choicest cuts of beef imaginable to mortal man. Snorting, he lie on the bed, on top of the covers, completely clothed, and closed his eyes, not intending to do anything more than rest his eyes for a few hours, content to let the fire burn itself out.  
His last thoughts before he drifted off to sleep were of potential employment he might find if his hunch proved to be correct. 

 

XxX

Anna sat in the common room with Grace, who balanced her infant son Tucker on her hip, watching as her friend mended a pair of her brother’s socks with utmost care. Money had been tight around here lately, what with traffic to the Inn being so very slow, so they’d had to make do with what they had, which was becoming less and less as weeks slipped slowly into a month. 

If this mercenary stayed, though, it might put some coin in the coffers, so to speak. 

Grace, who was prattling on about Tucker’s first smile until a moment ago, suddenly grew quiet, and Anna looked up from her work, staring into Grace’s pretty blue eyes.  
“Who is that?” she asked in a tone that Anna knew all too well, one that almost drew a strangled groan from her, would have if she hadn’t known how loyal Grace was to Eren, even as the young mother brushed her blonde ringlets behind her ear. 

Anna turned around and almost dropped her sewing needle. 

She was not known for being a particular coy woman, she was one of the eldest unmarried young women in the village, but even Anna Irving knew a handsome man when she saw one, as little as she seemed to care. It was hard to believe he was the same man, harder to believe that a simple shave, bath, and change of clothing could do so much for someone’s appearance, but apparently it was possible, because the evidence stood before her. 

Hair that had looked brittle suddenly looked red and luxuriant, his face, now that it was smooth, appeared to be extremely dynamic and markedly handsome, a face befitting a knight, with a straight nose and that calm expression. His eyes, though, his eyes, nearly black as they were, still suited a bandit, cold and uncaring as they’d been the night before, and just as her interest had waxed, it waned. 

“Ah, he’s a tenant,” Anna explained to Grace with a small shrug, turning her attention back to her needlework. “The first in a month. You should have seen him last night, Gracie. He looked like he stumbled out of hell.” 

“Is that so?” 

Again startled into dropping her needle, Anna spun on the man, who had somehow come up behind her without her noticing. His deep voice was disinterested, but there was purpose written all over his face, as if he knew exactly what he desired from her. Well, as the Inn-Keeper’s daughter, and with her brothers busy doing chores, she supposed it was her job to help him. 

“Don’t do that,” she snapped, standing and smoothing out her skirt, her face turning red once she realized she’d been rude to a customer, though he seemed completely nonplussed by her response.

From behind her, she heard Grace snickering, and Anna shot her friend a glare, to which she received nothing but an innocent smile. Thankfully, her guest ignored he exchange.  
“How can I help you?” she asked, turning back to him. 

“I am going out for a time, but I would like to purchase another three nights,” his tone was curt, formal, hardly the polite behavior one usually expected from house guests; she guessed he was the type of man who wasn’t used to taking “no” for answer, but then again, swordsman usually were a bit rough around the edges. 

“Um, sure,” she walked away from the table where she and Grace sat, sharing a cup of tea, and walked up to the counter. “That’s … 900 standard for three nights,” she informed him, “if you provide your own food.” 

“And with suppers only?” he inquired, crossing his arms squarely over her chest and leveling her with a look that was half glare, half inquisition. 

“1200 standard.”

He sighed in a way similarly to last night and proceeded to place his coin purse on the counter once more; she noted it was lighter so he must have some of his coin stashed away in his room, probably hidden. A wise idea, a guy with that much money might get mugged. 

But what did she expect? Sell-swords weren’t stupid, just pagan. 

“Will that be all?”

Similarly to the other day, he nodded, counted the coins for her, and then dropped them on the counter. This time, however, instead of waiting for her to handle the money, he simply strode away, leaving the door to the inn to slam shut behind him. Damnit, she hated rude customers!

Huffing, she dealt with the coins and went back to Grace to sew angrily, casting her friend a disgruntled glance when she began to giggle. “Gracie, it’s not funny. I really hate guys like that, who think that just because they wear a sword, they can do whatever they want!” 

She just laughed ever harder. “The handsome ones usually are jerks, sweetie,” she reached out and patted Anna’s hand, a playing glint in her eye. “But it was so great. You went moony for him for about two seconds.”

“I did not,” Anna puffed up, though her sulking proved she clearly had, and was just being difficult to save face. No one must ever know that she’d shown that kind of weakness or the guys would be all over her like flies to – Well, you know. 

“Don’t feel so bad. Any girl would get googly eyes over that fine specimen of manhood,” Gracie leaned back and shook her head. “You’d be stupid not to.” She turned her attention back to her son, wiping a bit of drool from his face, her look fond. “I’m not worried, though; unlike the rest of this town, I have faith in your womanly charms.”

Anna snorted. “Oh yes, little tomboy Annie, sure to be an old maid for the rest of her life, taking care of her brothers and father. I’m totally going to net me a fisherman – pun intended.” 

It was Grace’s turn to snort. “If you were more like that around the guys, I’d bet they’d like you more,” she pointed out gently as Anna found her needle and went back to mending socks. 

“Are you kidding me? Guys want a blushing rose, or a delicate iris, or something …” Anna shrugged. “No thank you, I’m just fine being the old maid who runs the Phoenix Inn for the rest of forever. Dad and the boys are the only men I’ll ever need.”

They’d had this conversation enough before that Grace knew when not to breach the subject and went on to prattle about how big Tucker was getting and about how, pretty soon, the Rope Maker Guild’s strike would be over and how Eren would be working again soon. 

And that simple comfort was enough to keep Anna smiling for her friend. 

XxX

His dark eyes scanned the people of the village, who gave him a wide berth. That was the way he preferred it – he did not like to be touched – and was more than happy to oblige their image of him as someone remote and intimidating. It wasn’t a hard act to keep up, it never had been and after so many years he was almost certain that it truly had become a part of him, a part he could never escape. 

He sighed, caressed the leather wrapped hilt of his blade, running his thumb fondly over the pommel. The gesture was a comfort to him, especially without Noishe here to accompany him. Normally, Kratos did not mind having his companion follow him, but in this specific instance, the goal was to remain as inconspicuous as possible. 

After all, he was searching for information. 

Glancing around, he began to note the layout of this village, though perhaps it was more apt to call it a town, considering its size. Luin was the jewel of Lake Sinoa, the heart of civilization in the wilderness, a prosperous fishing local that sold nearly all of Sylvarant’s freshwater fish, though out of necessity it was salted. It had a temperate climate, the people were clean and friendly, and if you enjoyed sailing on small boats, the wonders of Sinoa would certainly serve you well. The place certainly was a gem, a clean and healthy little hamlet, the sort of place that parents would want to raise their children … Were it not for the Ranch. 

In truth, Kratos was surprised anyone could still live here with the oppression of that wicked place, which loomed like a giant on some distant horizon, impossible to see beyond the tree line. Out of sight, out of mind, he supposed, though that philosophy seemed foolish given the urgency of the situation. 

No matter, he thought with a sigh. I am not here to wonder at the foolishness of the locals, I am here to find employment. 

So it was that he came to the docks, watching distant fishing boats bob up and down on the water. It was early enough that they would not be back in with the catch yet, but it would happen, and then Kratos would listen to their gossip. 

Rumors were valuable information sources if one only bothered to check the facts. 

He leaned against a nearby tree, taking in the expressions of the villagers. Most attempted to ignore him, though a few looked scandalized, and yet others curious or offended. Kratos did not mind the attention as long as they did not approach him for a conversation, he was not a shy man, but he was not exactly a socialite, either. 

There were many kinds of people here, though that was to be expected. This town had a varied history, a very interesting one that involved its poor habit of being destroyed and rebuilt, either because of natural disasters or because of the Desians. 

But that was not Luin’s only claim to fame, no. It kept watch over the Tower of Mana, which had once been a central tourist attraction of the area before it had become too dangerous because of the monsters that had made their home there. 

He snorted as a Priest passed and held out a holy symbol to protect himself against Kratos’ alleged evil. Garbed in all black as he was (his preferred color), he must have cut an intimidating figure, and the sword strapped to his waist would earn him no favors from the pacifistic Order of Martel. 

“A sell-sword?” 

The voice drew his attention and his eyes fell to a tan older fellow with too-large ears and a determined expression set onto his weathered face, made to look almost silly by his brown goatee. 

“… And you are?” Kratos didn’t bother to introduce himself; his blade was the only introduction he had ever needed. 

“So then they didn’t get to you? You got in?” the man frowned deeply, rubbing a thumb over his hairy chin. “How?”

“... They?” he spoke only after a pause, crossing his arms firmly over his chest; the man sighed in response. 

“We’ll discuss it later. If you’re staying at the Inn, we’re bound to run into each other,” he turned to leave. “Right now I have to get back to my rounds.” 

Kratos watched him retreat, turning back to the docks. There really was no point in rushing anything, after all. If he gathered information from the fisherman, he could surely prepare himself for whatever that youth had to say to him; though he already had a “hypothesis”, as an old friend of his would say. 

So he took to watching, ignoring the stares on his back, staring out at the waters of Sinoa, the ships bobbing up and down on them like apples in a barrel during a Harvest Festival. He could not help but think how peaceful this place was, how wonderfully quaint it was, even as the waters lulled him into a dreamlike state, his mind drifting far away until it was reawakened by the scent of sweat and fish. 

A heady odor if there even was one, but Kratos did not mind it, for it meant that all his waiting had paid off.

Indeed, they didn’t even notice him as they went about their business, hoisting nets of fish onto the shore with lever and pulley and dropping them to the ground below, where they were scooped up by other mean to be taken gods knew where. The nets once must of writhed with life, but the fish had since asphyxiated, leaving them bursting with nutritious death – not that Kratos particularly minded the thought. 

So he watched and listened, observing the men whom he was lost among, men who sung badly out of key even when not drunk, men who smelled and scratched, and cursed at one another; men who were, furthermore, all of different sizes and shapes. They spoke of everything and nothing, though he did manage to gather a few things by listening in, things that would be, under the right circumstances, quiet helpful. 

Feeling satisfied, he spun on his heel and silently drifted back to the inn, where, he hoped, supper was being made. 

XxX

Everything was boiling, a big, hearty, stew for her boys, two of who were out back chopping wood for the fireplaces inside, the other two who must be soon coming back from their shared patrol of Luin. 

Also, for the Mercenary, but she was willing to bet he would be eating in his room again – not that she minded.

I wasn’t like she hated the guy, or anything, and she wasn’t holding onto how much he had peeved her earlier that day, but really, she wanted to spend time with her boys without some stranger getting in the way. She thought happily of how pleased Cody would be that she was making his favorite dish, complete with garden peas and carrots, and how they would laugh around the dinner table like they usually did.

Her dreams, however, seemed destined to be shattered.

Even from the kitchen she heard it, that when Cody and her father entered they were not alone. Another voice joined to create the melodious din of their chatter, walking into the darkening Inn that doubled as Anna’s childhood home. A voice that she recognized from her previous encounters with him; she only barely managed to stifle a frustrated groan once she heard what they were discussing. 

“So you picked up on it already, then, huh? I still find that hard to believe …” it was her brother’s voice, doubting, as always, critical as only he could be. 

“I will admit that I felt inclined to do my research,” the shrug in the Mercenary’s voice was almost audible. “It wasn’t that difficult to discover, honestly. It would stand to reason that the current absence of any visitors other than myself is due to some … great tragedy, such as the ones the men at the docks were discussing.” 

“You see, Cody, it’s just simple reasoning,” the sound of flesh slapping clothed back none-too-gently made her wince. She was used to that seemingly friendly yet scolding tone which her father used around guests to let his children know they’d stepped out of line. “Would you like to discuss this further, Mister …?”

“Aurion,” the mercenary supplied. “But I do not wish to go by my father’s title. Kratos shall suffice for our purposes,” there was a very deliberate break in his words, and the lack of active noise other than her stew bubbling disturbed Anna; they were not a quiet family. “I take it you wish to do business with me?”

“Well that’s not entirely my father’s choice,” Cody answered before their father could speak. “You’ll have to explain yourself to the Defense Committee, but he can certainly suggest you to them as the solution to our little … problem.” 

As Anna went to get another bowl resignedly, she could hear disapproval practically dripping from her father’s tone, “But I am at leeway to discuss the details with you so you’re prepared.” There was the sound of a pair of hands slapping together, and in her mind’s eye, Anna pictured her father quickly rubbing his hands together in old habit, as if scheming. “Over supper, of course.”

As if on cue, Anna burst out from behind the kitchen doors and into the common room, carrying a few bowls of soup. “Settle yourself down around the table, Mr. Aurion, I promise you this is a long tale.” 

She felt his impossibly cold eyes upon her, and simply taking one look at her brother was enough to confirm that he felt the same – This guy, no matter how skilled he was, was truly creepy. It was good to know she wasn’t alone. She and Cody may not agree on much, but when they did, they were good at working together.

“I’ll go get the boys and help Annie set up,” Cody volunteered as she sat down the few bowls she was carrying at the table in the common room, where they ate every night.  
Smiling, he grabbed her elbow, spun her around, and escorted her to the kitchen before their father could stop them from gossiping with a glance. Once they were in the kitchen, the door swung shut behind him, and Cody breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, so, I’m not the only one who thinks that guy is hella weird?” 

Anna snorted, watching as her brother ran his hand over her warm brown eyes. “No. But father is right in telling him,” she sighed and began to ladle more stew into bowls. “That guy … You should have seen him, all covered in yellow dirt, like in the highlands. He had a limp yesterday, and now you don’t even notice it. That and he has some kind of … Weird, domesticated, attack wolf.”

“Attack wolf …?” Cody made a gargling noise and stopped himself from pursuing the question. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. No matter how fast he can recover, no matter what he has, he doesn’t look or act normal. Even his name is … Kind of strange. Half elfy.”

It was Anna’s turn to roll her eyes. “Good Martel, Cody. None of that matters,” she brushed her hands on her apron and placed her hands firmly on her hips. “What matters is the size of his purse.”

“… You saw his purse?” Cody asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Anna said, opening the backdoor to shout at the boys to come in and wash up. “And it’s overflowing with coin. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. That means one thing and one thing only, since bandits travel in groups and never bother to clean up …” 

Cody was silent, dead silent, which is how Anna knew that he got the picture. Walking up, she smiled a mockingly sweet smile and patted his cheek before shoving him more bowls. “I think he’s a freaker too, okay? But if he’s a useful freaker, who cares?” She laughed as he relaxed into her touch. “Now go deliver these before Father starts asking questions.” 

XxX 

“So, you really are a merc,” the young man, Cody, mused. “And from what you’ve said, a skilled one, too.

He was examining a coin that Kratos had pulled out upon request. The girl must have told him about the size of his purse, though he could not blame her; he really did doubt that they had seen anyone like him before. His height and his hair certainly made him stand out in a crowd, as well as his audacity to carry a sword when The Church expressly discouraged such things, and in some places, “discouragement” was as good as excommunication. 

“I was paid by the Asgard Pilgrimage Tour Services to escort a group,” he explained. “As you can see, it is Palmacostan gold.”

“And you got this much from one Pilgrimage?” Cody’s voice was breathless, not accusatory; it was hard for him to feasibly imagine this much money. 

Imagine his reaction if he knew Kratos had more hidden in his room. 

Kratos snorted, both at Cody’s comment, and in amusement at his own train of thought. “The Governor General’s son was in that tour. It was of utmost importance for him to be protected from the monsters on the road to Asgard, and I proved myself more fit for the job of protecting his son after a … Heh … Misunderstanding with his guard.” 

Ironic, wasn’t it? That the only city with a proper militia also was home to the Martel Cathedral, the center of the Martel Faith. Kratos would wonder why they let such “unchecked violence” go on underneath their nose – If he cared, though he could hazard a few guesses. 

They stared at him in mute shock, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, in any case, I am in high demand. If I am good enough for the Governor General … “  
The man with the goatee, Drake Irving, Kratos had learned, hummed and nodded, stroking the fuzz on his face with great concentration. “Yes, I think … I’m going to invite you to the council meeting tomorrow, where we can discuss your employment with the Defense Committee, but I really am interested in hiring you. What do you think, Cody?” 

While Cody deliberated, still marveling at the coin Kratos had shown him, the Mercenary leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and ignoring the stare of the woman upon him. He hated it when people did that, concentrated on him as if he were a subject of interest. He could take abashed stares, even glares of hatred or glances of fear, but he could not tolerate curiosity. It made his skin crawl, made him want to leap out of his own body and fly very far away.

It was not because he was a shy man, hardly. Kratos was painfully abrasive. He cared for nothing and no one, except for Noishe, and took pleasure in being a social recluse. No, he hated that kind of staring because it meant that someone might try to get attached to him, and he loathed the idea of people depending on him for personal reasons.  
He was a mercenary, not a charity worker. There was a reason that was his profession, and not a Priest or a school teacher. 

“I think … I think that we should tell him the job, and if he agrees …” Cody took a deep breath, handing the coin back to Kratos without looking at him, his eyes locked firmly on his father. “If he agrees, then we can let him in on the meeting tomorrow.” 

“I agree,” Drake grinned and turned back to Kratos, the smile disappearing from his face. “Okay, so we have a problem,” he took a deep drink of his ale. “You know how you’re the only outside visitor in town?”

Kratos did not answer, hoping that Drake did not expect an honest answer. Certainly, the question seemed rhetorical.

“Right,” Drake took another drink. “There’s a reason for that.”

Kratos hummed softly and leaned forward slightly, patting the hilt of his blade. “And that problem is driving away visitors, correct?”

“Well … Yes. There’s a group of … Of raiders … “ Drake rambled on, explaining the situation in some detail, and though Kratos made notes on his theorizing, he decided to follow his own leads later; he trusted his judgment far more than this man’s. 

Tomorrow, very early in the morning, before the Defense Committee meeting, he would rise and explore the parameter of the city, search for the movements of the raiders. After all, he was certain he could persuade the men of his city to hire him. 

“That is enough,” Kratos finally said. “I accept your proposal.”

Drake and Cody exchanged a look. Cody looked annoyed, Drake surprised, but they both looked somewhat relieved.

“Now, if you excuse me,” he rose, grabbing his meal. “I would like to finish eating in peace.”

And, with a soft swish of his cloak, he strode back to his room, slamming the door behind him.


	2. Luin Defense Committee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who showed their support on the last chapter. I'm working on rehashing the outline from the original outline of this story. I should be able to post a chapter a week, roughly, if I stick to my guns.

Anna followed him at a short distance, watching as he headed toward the east gate, the massive wolf-beast at his side, slinking along beside him, unburdened by the packs he'd been carrying the night Kratos had entered town.

Honestly, she was doing this mostly to get Cody off her back, since he felt that the mercenary would be far less likely to notice that a girl was following him than a grown man. She hadn't really liked him calling her a "girl", but she agreed only because he had agreed to make breakfast in her place, and he was the only other person in the family who could even remotely cook. Even Anna, who loved cooking, got sick of it sometimes.

So, paying for a loaf of bread in town, Anna had followed this mysterious mercenary to the outskirts, where she hid behind some bushes, watching him crouch down and examine the ground. He placed his fingers in the dirt and pressed them to his tongue soon afterward, almost making Anna gag. What was he testing for by licking the dirt?

That couldn't be healthy.

She watched as he frowned, then stiffened, his dark eyes shifting until –

Was he looking at her?

"You are not very stealthy," he said, standing up, his eyes flickering away to stare at the horizon. "You should go back to town. Bandits might be lurking about."

Anna felt herself turn red and stood, pushing herself up off the ground and brushing off her long skirt. "If I go back, my brother will get super mad at me, so no thank you." She glared at him, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. "I'll just follow you around until you do something suspicious."

He stared at her blankly for a long moment before both of his eyebrows arched subtly, and she found herself staring. She hadn't really noticed how prominent his brow line was before, not really; maybe it contributed to why his gaze always looked so dark and brooding. "I am not going to do something suspicious if you follow me around like a duckling, Miss Irving," he said coldly, turning back around. "And I would not do anything suspicious anyway. I am a man of my word." There was another pause and she watched him toy with the hilt of his sword. "Go back to town."

She choked off the groaning noise she wanted to make and stepped away from the bush, trying to keep her skirt from snagging on it and her long hair from tangling in the brambles. "Listen, Mr. Aurio—"

"Kratos," he cut her off. "I am Kratos."

"Mr. Kratos," she settled, placing her hands on her hips as she came to stand in front of him, craning her neck to look up and into his eyes; she hadn't realized he was this tall from a distance. "You can't tell me what to do. I don't know if you're aware or not, but there's this little thing called "free-will" that prevents you from telling me what to do …"

"Oh?" he snorted, turning away from her. "Do the faithful of Martel believe in free-will?"

Anger ignited in her chest and shot through her limbs, making her freeze up. "Excuse me?!" She demanded. "Just because you're some thoughtless pagan with a broadsword who's sold his soul for a bit of coin doesn't mean –"

"A bit of coin?" he didn't turn around, didn't look at her, but his voice held a hint of bitter amusement. "Don't presume to know things you can have no way of guessing," he kneeled down. "And if you are going to follow me, woman, sweet Gnome, learn the art of silence!"

Shocked, her words froze in her throat for only a moment, a witty retort lost to her. She growled, and then settled for interrogating him, instead. "What are you doing? Why are you eating the dirt?"

"I am not," his words were clipped, annoyed, and he cast the wolf a glare when it made a snorting noise, almost as if it were laughing at them. "I am trying to taste for ashes, to see if anyone has camped here recently. And you are impeding me from going as far out as I need to."

"What do you mean "going as far out as you need to"?' she growled, watching as he rose once more, this time turning to look her in the eyes; he really was fuming, the black depths of his gaze spitting hellfire and brimstone. She found her own words nearly frozen in her throat by his stare, but she forged onward. "What are you planning to do, anyway?"

"I am making a perimeter, calculating how much the enemy has encroached upon Luin's boundaries," his words came out as a hiss between his clenched teeth. "That is why you need to go home and do something useful. As it is, you are only impeding me."

She wanted to keep arguing, but she was forced to admit, even though she hated it, that he had a point. Anna didn't exactly trust him, but badgering answers out of him wasn't going to win her anything, especially since there was no promise he'd give her the honest answers. She'd just have to press her luck a different day – A day when she was wearing pants.

"Fine," she snapped, spinning around, not waiting on a response.

She wasn't that far from town so it didn't take her a large amount of time to head back, grab her wicker basket that she used for shopping, and storm off to the marketplace to buy more produce for supper that night.

Thinking about it, she calmed.

It was to be a large affair, one of the largest meetings in awhile. Even the Church would send their representatives, though Anna guessed that was because they sought to monitor the hiring of pagan help to deal with their problems. Other than that, the Guild masters would be attending, as would the Mayor and her father and brother. That was at least ten people, not counting the mercenary.

Ugh.

The mercenary.

Just thinking about him made her angry. Where did he get off, anyway? Hadn't he ever heard that you were supposed to be polite to women? His words may be prettier than what the average mercenary choked out of his mouth on a daily basis, but his manners certainly weren't any better. Grace would have felt bad for him, said it was because he was a pagan who didn't know Martel, but Anna thought that he used not following Martel as an excuse to be a jerk, which was completely different.

It didn't matter, she told herself, she'd only have to put up with him for however long he was going to be here yet if he got hired. Then she'd never have to lay eyes on him ever again, something that put a spring in her step and made her hum as she bought a bundle of sage to flavor her chicken.

XxX

Kratos trekked back to town after spending some time in the fields outside of Luin. He'd found that the nearest of the campfires were less than five miles away, which was a bit unsettling, though those campfires were rare. Most of them hovered at about seven, and though that was not exactly a good distance to be at, it was not so terrible that Kratos found it indefensible, either.

An inkling of a plan had already taken shape in his head, but he kept it to himself, scratching Noishe behind the ears as the crossed the creaky, worn, bridge back through the east gate and into town. It was already well past noon, by the position of the sun, and Kratos was willing to bet that he had just enough time to restock on a few supplies and clean up before the Defense Committee met.

"What do you think?" he asked Noishe, ignoring the stares of the few townspeople gawking at him on his way to the market. "Will they hire me?"

Noishe snorted as if to imply they would be foolish not to, something that brought a wisp of a smile to Kratos' impassive face.

"Yes, I agree," he replied as they rounded a corner, his keen eyes picking out the apothecary's stall even from a distance.

Without another word to his companion, Kratos lost himself to the business of purchasing supplies. A new whetstone, apple and orange gels, various topical crèmes and potions for the sake of poison or burn wounds … It didn't take him long to gather them in the pouch he'd had hanging at his belt, tie them to Noishe, and head back to the inn, where he used the pump out back to clean off his face and hands, and wash the sweat from the back of his neck.

Indeed, he had turned out to be correct. People were arriving, but not enough that he couldn't slip inside relatively unnoticed and change into something that might make a bit more of an impression on the members of the Committee. Kratos Aurion may live a rather crude lifestyle, but it didn't mean he was incapable of behaving respectably. He wouldn't be a good mercenary if he couldn't fit in with whatever class he hoped would hire him, and Kratos was, by reputation, a very high class mercenary.

Outside he could hear the guests arriving, crowding up the common room. The girl must be busy making the meal, so surely she'd recruited the younger boys who had been at the table last night to help her; she'd be a fool not to.

Buckling his last belt, Kratos carefully arranged the shoulder pads of his cloak, staring at himself in the mirror a moment before sighing and motioning to Noishe to stay behind in their room. His companion, thankfully, understood that he would only impede Kratos' in impressing the men of Luin. Though Noishe was useful, and indeed a very friendly creature, he did not do much to help Kratos make a positive impression on potential employers.

The fabric of his clothing sighed as he strode out of the room and down the hall, entering the crowded common room. Already it was nearly brimming with men, some standing, others straddling chairs, a few with drink in their hand, save the robed Priests of Martel who sat at the table, hands arranged politely in their lap. He sighed, loathe to deal with them, and went to lean against a distant wall, near the entrance to the room, where he could watch the guests to his leisure without being noticed or interrupted.

They were certainly a loud enough bunch, he noted, finding very little interest in their appearances, only their mannerisms, so he could detect which few might represent a problem for him. It was usually the most boisterous and the most reserved who were usually the most problematic people to convince, those so set in their ways or so convinced of their "logical" observations that they could become difficult to persuade.

No matter.

When he said he was a high class mercenary, he meant it.

The hubbub settled down when a man in a vest slightly finer and a shirt slightly crisper than that of his compatriots came to the front of the room and called order. "Attention, townsman! Attention!" He addressed the crowd in a brisk voice, coughing into his hand, his worn face a bit more severe than your typical mayor, his hands more steady as he held them up to hush the crowd of men. "Normally I'd take roll, but I've been talking to Drake Irving, and he has someone important to introduce you to, someone who may be the solution to our problem. Roll can wait until later, business comes first."

Kratos' eyes darted quickly to where he'd seen Drake before, hovering by the entrance to the kitchen, whispering to his daughter. Sure enough, the man now walked forward, taking his stand next to the man Kratos could only assume to be the Mayor, looking out at the men gathered. "Some of you will already be aware, but we have a guest in town."

There was a muttering, and the Mayor held up his hands to quiet the conversations.

"As Dylan's already told you, I think he may be the solution to our problem," Drake continued, stroking his goatee. "You see, he's a mercenary, but not just any mercenary, he's— "

Kratos could have anticipated that the Priests would interrupt.

"A mercenary, Mr. Irving?" the head Priest asked, a man with a round and pleasant looking face, complete with watery black eyes that made him look almost like a plump mouse; well-intentioned, surely, but naïve.

"That is just what I am, Master Priest," Kratos did not look into the faces of the men whose heads suddenly glanced his way, drawn by the sound of his voice, though he could well imagine the shock there.

How had he managed to stay invisible all this time? They would ask, and he would not answer, his eyes only for the Priest, the Mayor, and Drake Irving.

"Ah … Master Mercenary…" The Mayor rumbled, and Kratos wondered how much Drake had told him of their conversation the night before that he received the title "master" without prompting. "There you are."

"This is Kratos Aurion," Drake said to the room. "And as I told Dylan earlier, he's a highly skilled mercenary. The governor general hired him to escort a pilgrimage."

"Is that true, Mr. Aurion?" Kratos' eyes darted back to the Priest, who now stood, arms crossed squarely over his chest; something told Kratos would be a long night.

"Kratos will suffice, Master Priest, I need no special title," he said before he continued speaking. "And it is true. I have the money to prove it, though I imagine you will not believe I did not steal it or otherwise receive it in a way other than through wickedness."

The Priest seemed speechless for a moment and Kratos sighed, untying his purse from his belt and striding forward to drop it on the table. "Well, here is your proof, Master Priest. I invite you and any other man who doubts me to look through my coin under my supervision. You will find that most of it is of Palmacostan mint, and relatively current."

It was the master of the Rope Maker's Guild, whose brother was a banker in Palmacosta, who confirmed what Kratos had said, allowing the mercenary to collect his funds and return to the wall. "Aye, no doubt about what you're saying," said the man as he handed Kratos his purse back. "You definitely were paid in coin by someone very rich – Whether or not it's the Governor General hardly matters at this point. You're high class."

Kratos didn't respond, his dark eyes darting to the Priest, who heaved a mighty sigh and gently excused himself through the gathered men, who were all gaping at Kratos like a school of fish. Joining the Mayor and Drake at the front, he cleared his throat and in the quiet easily gathered the attention of those gathered.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you gentleman that the Lady Martel demands we forgive our enemies?" Kratos' closed his eyes and choked back his snort. "Should we really attempt to drive these people off with force? Does not the Goddess demand we reason with them?"

"You cannot reason with bandits," Kratos' response was cool. "They have rejected the salvation of Martel and seek to do harm to others, both personally and financially. Do you think such people can be reasoned with?"

There was a general mutter of agreement and he continued. "Listen to me, for I am more experienced than our religious friend in this realm. He may know the Goddess' Edicts, but we live in the real world. I think you gentlemen all recognize the necessity of my profession. I'm sure the Goddess will forgive her children if she is so eager to forgive criminals."

Though the Priest looked abashed, the other men seemed to be nodding in accordance with what he said, but it was the Mayor he paid most attention to, for the man had the most weight on this Committee.

The look in his face prompted Kratos to believe that, before the night was over, he would be owed a hefty sum by this town.

XxX

Anna dusted her skirt off, standing behind her father, though no one seemed to notice her. All eyes were on the mercenary, whose cold gaze would only occasionally brush over her father or the Priests. Usually, it was focused with full force on the Mayor, who seemed content to stare right back.

As time went on, it looked more and more likely that Kratos was going to get his way and that half of Luin's funds might be poured into it. It was a fact that had annoyed her – no man was worth that much, and if he thought he was, he needed a serious reality check – but she had no choice but to sit and put up with it. They really did need help, and even though Anna was becoming progressively more and more sure that they shouldn't be using someone who charged this much, there wasn't much she could really do.

Right now, she was grudgingly enjoying watching Pastor Matthew fail at trying to turn negotiation with Kratos into a theological debate. He was a good man, but a bit too high handed for her personal tastes, forgetting that the followers of The Way were living, breathing, people instead of dolls who bled hymns to Martel. Expertly, Kratos dodged or deflated every one of his arguments, receiving spiritual whiplash in the process.

It was satisfying only because she found his sermons so boring, and if she was going to hell because of it, so be it. If the Goddess was that touchy, it was a wonder anyone went to heaven at all.

"As I have already said, it is my suggestion that you use your abundant wealth of natural resources to attempt to outlast them," said Kratos, his arms crossed over his chest as he continued to lean against that wall, just as he had for the last hour. "I will take the most capable of you and launch strategic attacks on them. They will not have many supplies and will need more if they are being weakened, more than they can take in by attacking foot traffic. It's simply a matter of forcing their hand."

Anna frowned a bit, looking from face to face, chewing her lip. No one said anything and she fidgeted, wondering if anyone was going to mention that he'd gotten into the city, that hat might mean they could send someone out to get help.

None of the men moved, even Cody, who was sitting next to the Rope Guild's head, looked satisfied with the plan.

Anger seizing her, Anna stepped up, realizing even as she did it that she had no place, that all of the men of the Guilds and Priesthood were mocking her for speaking her opinion. She was a woman and had no place here, but if they were too stupid to see it, maybe it was a good thing she was in attendance.

"If he made it into the village, we could just send someone to Asgard for help."

Suddenly, everyone was paying attention to her, but she didn't mind at all. They were reacting well to her suggestion, something that almost made her tingle with pride. Pastor Matthew, especially, seemed to be really pleased with her "non-violent solution", something that made her grin a bit, that made her want to laugh in relief.

"Are you a fool?"

Anna looked up to find him staring at her, his black eyes so cold that they burned, making her quickly beating heart rocket with anxiety. Her throat constricted and she swallowed, overcome with the absolute disdain in his eyes, her fists clenching at her side as she forced herself to meet his unyielding stare.

"Are you?" she asked, her voice barely shaking.

He didn't respond to her quip. "Miss Irving, I came here through the highlands, where I had gone to avoid the detection of the Desians. It is not a path a normal traveler would take, for a normal person would not be equipped to deal with the monsters that live there, and it took me three weeks to traverse it by foot. It is only by doing this that I was able to avoid the bandits, who perch on the outskirts of your town, awaiting travelers. They will stop any attempt to retrieve help."

"Then why don't you go for help?" she demanded, growing bold; refusing to balk underneath his scoff.

"Why? Because, Miss Irving, I am a mercenary, a military man who is capable of dealing with the problem presently. I am not a Sylph forsaken courier," his eyes released her and darted back toward the Mayor. "It would be a waste of Luin's money to send me to deliver a message to a city that doesn't even have a standing militia in hopes that they would grant help."

Her mouth, hanging open, suddenly snapped shut, and she watched with narrowed eyes and they smoothly went back to discussing pricing. Feeling sick to her stomach, she spun around and storming toward the kitchen and slamming the back door behind her. She had to get out, had to clear her head, so she rushed down the road, took a left, and burst into Grace's house panting, her hands shaking, her eyes suddenly burning with tears.

"Annie?"

Grace's voice was high with worry, though Anna couldn't see her from where she stood in the kitchen, to the left. Anna simply braced herself against the wall, feeling her friend's arms wrap around her only a moment later. She buried her face in Grace's shoulder, choking back sobs, her face blazing with shame that she'd even thought she'd be taken seriously.

"Annie, what's wrong? What happened?" Grace soothed, stroking her hair with gentle fingers.

Gathering her wits, Anna pushed herself away, taking a deep, steadying, breath. "You want to know what happened? I can tell you in two words."

Her best friend arched her eyebrows, brushing her hands off on her apron, a bit of humor causing her lips to quirk in amusement. "You never say anything in just two words, sweetie."

Anna cast her a half hearted glare, crossing her arms over her chest. "Kratos Aurion," she told Grace, sighing and elaborating when she realized the woman had no idea who that was. "The mercenary."

A look of understanding dawned on Grace's face, and Anna suddenly found herself being fussed over, a cup of tea being shoved off on her as she was forced to sit down and unload. Not that that bothered Anna – it was why she'd come here in the first place.

She didn't like to bother Grace as much as she used to, before Grace had married Eren and moved in with him, back when she still lived with her parents and siblings. Grace had a life of her own now, her own son to take care of, a husband to dote on her. Anna didn't have as much of a place in the life of a married woman as she did the life of another "young maiden" (Anna laughed at that – she wasn't really a maiden, not at her age), but she took comfort in knowing that Grace was her best friend and would always be here for her.

So Anna spilled her anger to Grace, her frustration at being humiliated in front of everyone by Kratos. She explained how he had strung everyone in town along on this stupid, selfish quest for gold, and how his greed filled her with rage. How anyone could be so unconcerned about the world around them filled her with a deep desire to walk up to him and shake him until he realized that what he wanted wasn't the most important thing in the world.

Grace simply listened, allowed her to finish, and then asked her if she was going to be okay once she had finished.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Anna sighed, leaning her head back and closing her eyes, deciding that when she got home she'd fill a washtub with water and soak until the water cooled. "I only have to live with him for a little bit, right? Then he'll be gone and I will never, ever have to see him again."

Grace laughed. "That's the spirit, though … You should probably get back. I bet your father and Cody are pretty worried about you by now."

Anna took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. I can't let him get to me. He's just some … jerk." She stood and gave Grace one last hug before saying her goodbyes. "I'll talk to you later, okay? I'm going to go back home and clean up the kitchen, and then take a good soak …"

Grace saw here out, and Anna marched herself back to the inn determinedly, so oblivious to everything around her that she almost collided with Kratos head on as he opened the door to leave the very same inn she was trying to enter.

Suddenly unsteady, Anna tipped backwards, falling back and landing on her tailbone, making a harsh smacking noise as she fell. Rubbing her behind, she stared up at him from her ungraceful heap of skirt and limbs. He simply stared back at her, face utterly bored, not even slightly concerned, as a normal person might have been.

"Sure, just sit and stare at me," she growled. "You already humiliated me once, what's doing it twice by forcing me to stand on my own?" Shakily, she pushed herself to her feet and began to dust herself off, attempting to elbow past him; only his words froze her in place.

"Would you accept help from me, even if I offered?" his voice sounded utterly bored. "Be honest with yourself, Miss Irving, you find me personally disgusting."

She spun on him suddenly, jabbing her finger into his chest. "You know what, you self-important jackass? I'm pretty sure a saint would find you personally disgusting!"

"You are entitled to your opinions," he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes sharp. "However, one must take into account the person who has the opinion before weighing it of any value."

"Excuse me?!" She hissed, reaching back to slap him across the face.

Effortlessly, he caught her wrist and held her hand stationary, leaning low to whisper in her ear. "Miss Irving, what you did today was foolish. I am not a man to be trifled with, and in front of all of those men you insulted my professional pride."

"Unhand me, you bastard!" she growled, something keeping her from screaming out. Perhaps it was the threat in his dark eyes, the promise that he was capable of so much more than a bruised wrist. "I don't give one damn about your professional pride! That's crap and we both know it." Her green eyes narrowed and she stared up at him fearlessly. "You're just a greedy cut-throat."

To her great chagrin, he laughed, a dark noise that sent chills down her spine, making her regret ever allowing him to stay. "As I said, you're entitled to your opinions, Miss Irving. You should know, however, that I am anything but. If you think this is about the money, you are sorely mistaken."

Struck by sudden inspiration, she attempted to drive her knee up and into his groin, but he released her and stepped back, his quick eyes easily catching the movement. She cursed, rubbing her wrist and glaring at him, imagining those calloused hands wrapped around her throat, making her shiver in horror. "What's it about then, if not the money?"

"I see no need to tell you," he snorted, dusting off his hands. "But if it will keep you out of my hair, I will tell you."

"Well?" she growled, placing her hands squarely on her hips. "Out with it then, Mr. Aurion."

He made a noise of disdain in the back of his throat, but did not threaten her; it was good to know that he had some sense. After all, if she complained about him to her father or Cody, he'd be out the door in an instant, without his coin or his precious job.

"Very well, though I do not expect you to understand." There was a pause, and she watched his hand trail down to stroke the hilt of his blade almost tenderly. She found her eyes fixated there instead of on his face, finding his affection for the weapon damnably creepy. "It is a matter of pride," his voice drew her attention back to his face.

There was a longer pause than the first, and she found his eyes were suddenly very distant, as if he were staring across a long span of land, looking for some distant landmark."I am a swordsman of the highest caliber and should not be expected to work for peanuts, Miss Irving. I do not run a charity service, no matter how much I would like to, and to be honest, I am giving your father and the others a discount for allowing me to stay here free of charge."

"Free of … Free of …" her ire at him almost dissipated all at once, and switched to her father. Knowing him like she did, she could just about promise that he offered, and continued to offer, until Kratos accepted his offer. "Is he an idiot?"

Kratos snorted, staring at her a moment longer before turning and striding away, leaving her overwhelmed by her emotions. Absently, she wondered where he was going, but pushed it out of her mind. There weren't many places to go in Luin, and he couldn't possibly get into too much trouble on his own, what, with everyone else around him.

She was still furious with him, would avoid him like the plague, and had her own plans to clean up and soak so she could clear her mind to see to. Right now she was far more interested in going and scolding her father for missing out on a golden opportunity than she was in brooding.

Anna opened the door and stepped inside.


	3. An Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait on this.

He woke to the muffled silence of the early morning, those sacred hours before dawn when all was at peace. Noishe was curled up by the heart, his white tail twitching, whining slightly in his sleep, making Kratos smile slightly. He lie there for a moment longer, wondering what his old friend was dreaming about, before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching and picking his shirt up off the floor.

Silently, he strode over to his friend and scratched him behind the ears, earning a sleepy snort as the beats cracked open his eye.

"Yes, friend," Kratos muttered. "It is time to wake already."

He turned away, hearing Noishe stand and stretch, his claws scraping against the wooden planks of the floor. Kratos himself sat on the bed, lacing up his boots, his eyes flickering upward to meet Noishe's dark gaze. "Today we go out to see about fortifying the town's defenses. We will have to pay careful mind to the condition of the outlying farmland, but that shouldn't be so hard." He sat up and tapped his own head with a single finger. "I already have a map of the town in here."

Noishe snorted again, and then pressed his head into Kratos' hand, receiving a small smile and another scratch behind the ears.

"Let us go. I would like not to waste these hours of solitude, this brief time before we are bogged down with townspeople attempting to gauge our progress," he stood smoothly, his hand on the hilt of his blade, but paused when he heard a noise in the common room.

He held up his hand to still and slipped silently form the room, hugging the wall and peering around the corner, where he saw that woman sneaking around. She was wearing a dress simpler than the ones he'd seen her wearing before, and a small knapsack was thrown over her shoulder. She looked nervous, her green eyes darting from place to place as she opened the front door and slipped out of the house, and Kratos realized with a sort of pang of grim amusement that she was planning to go to Asgard.

"What a fool," he murmured to himself, motioning to Noishe to come forward so that they could set out on their own way.

Did she earnestly think she could make it to Asgard with so few supplies? The journey was father than she thought it was, and with bandits lurking just outside of the city … She was an idiot if she thought she could survive; bandits would not hold back just because she was a woman. She would either die of exposure or be attacked by brigands and left to die.

No matter.

Kratos and Noishe slipped from the inn, careful not to disturb its residents, and walked out into the early morning town. It was light now, casting the city in a soft pink glow, and a mist from the lake had settled over the ground, veiling Kratos' ankles and appearing to make him glide across the ground.

Noishe pranced alongside of him, silent as he, seeming oddly majestic and somewhat sullen in the dawn hours. Kratos himself was little more than a dark shape as he stepped into the marketplace, where vendors snoozed in their stalls, startled awake only as he passed them, a shadow that created a breeze.

He stopped only when he reached the baker's stall, startling the chubby faced man, who was just bringing a tray laden with hot buns out of the door. The baker stumbled down the steps, and practically slammed the tray onto the table before Kratos as he recovered his balance, blinking up owlishly at the mercenary with his watery blue eyes. He was likely trying to be prepared for the morning rush that Kratos suspected was less than 15 minutes behind him.

"Two of your buns," Kratos was already fingering the coin he would need.

"That will be –" The man began, but Kratos held out the coin, forcing the man to accept it, all while looking stunned; and why shouldn't he? Kratos had never shopped here before.

"I saw the sign," was all Kratos said before picking up two of the buns, tossing one to Noishe, who inhaled it in a single gulp, and walking away.

Now that he had food, Kratos meandered to the lakefront, where he stared out at the water, watching a few waterfowl trail slowly across the surface. Off in the distance, far on the other bank of Lake Sinoa, Kratos could see a few trees and the silhouette of the distant red cliffs. Beyond that, further still, would be the ocean, glimmering and dark in the dawn light, a place that Kratos had been many times in his life, and a place he was sure he would return to again before he died.

He liked it here, in this place, before people came and sullied it with their noise and confusion. In front of the fountain, a testament to the ingenuity of the human race, trapped underneath the heavens that unknown forces had long ago wrought, face to face with the nature that the Spirits had shaped, Kratos truly felt at peace. Here all was quaint and natural, and there was no memory of the artificiality of the domain of his liege, no remnant of a civilization so bent on world domination that it forget to care for the very land it sought to conquer. Kratos enjoyed nature as he enjoyed nothing else, for it alone still seemed pure.

Carefully, he tore the bread apart and chewed thoughtfully, watching the ducks cause ripples on the surface of the lake. His mind jumped, just like that, to a conversation he'd had a long time ago with his protégé about how he planned to be the stone of change thrown into the lake of history. It was a long time ago now, though the memory hadn't faded with age, as so many other things about that time had.

Perhaps that was why it still wounded him so deeply.

Like a rock skipping across the surface of the water, Kratos' mind bounced back to the girl before plunging into the depths of his own conscience. Tossing some bread to the ducks, he frowned and sighed, realizing bitterly that he'd allowed her to simply traipse off to her death without even attempting to stop her.

Placating his logic with the thought that this was due entirely to the fact that he would be evicted and lose his job if he allowed his employer's daughter to be killed, he swallowed his guilt and stood, crumbing the rest of his bread and throwing it carelessly at the ducks. He had no time to waste if he were going to go fetch her, after all, there was no telling how far she'd gone outside of town.

"Damn girl," he growled to Noishe, who silently rose from where he'd sat at Kratos' side to trail after the mercenary, who paused momentarily and decided to go around the market, which would be pulsing with people by now. "You are an inconvenience and a burden."

Even though he ran the risk of running into either Cody or Drake Irving by taking the back roads through Luin proper, it would cut the time it actually took him to leave town dramatically – And right now, time was of the essence. Swiftly, he made his way from town, meeting no one, no more than a dark blur, a gust of wind ruffling a skirt of stirring a cape.

Her trail was not difficult to pick up, meandering and inelegant, obvious once he exited town and was in his element. A broken twig, trampled grass … He followed her, soon aware that there was another, better hidden, trail through the woods alongside the road. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the pattern of boot prints in soft soil, a feeling of disquiet settling around him like a shroud.

"Noishe," he barked, "go ahead, and find her. Quickly! We are not the only ones tracking her!"

His companion nodded and took off like the wind, though Kratos knew well enough what his friend running looked like that he did not waste time looking after him. Instead, he took to the trees, hoping to come up on her assailants from behind; he valued the element of surprise, especially in a fight against the underhanded.

Gripping the hilt of his blade he grinned grimly as he slipped through the underbrush.

XxX

Anna dragged her feet along the ground, though her mood had grown slightly lighter since she'd left Luin that morning. Part of it was probably the weather – clear sky, green grass in striking contrast to the red cliffs of the south and the grey cliffs of the north, and to the blue of the heavens – but most of it had to do with finally being free from the shadow of that mercenary. It was a large shadow, too, to affect her even out here, to get to her even while she was pursuing her own ideals.

But she had to do this.

It had come to her last night while she was in the washtub, soaking away her anger from her encounters with Kratos and nursing the sore wrist that he had indeed bruised with his large hand. No one believed that she was in the right just because she was a woman, and because that man spoke with an authority that could sway anyone to his side, despite the fact that he had all the compassion of a pebble. The right thing to do here was to request help, to avoid costly property damages that fighting on their own lands would cause. A larger force would safely drive their assailants away without conflict, but what did the mercenary care about the cost of damaged barns and granaries? All he cared about was coin – Regardless of what he said.

And so it was that she silently fumed against the beauty and splendor of the day, her bad mood slowly abating the farther away she traveled from that pompous, surly, greedy, soulless jerk.

Anna paused for a moment, a shiver suddenly shifting down her spine as she pivoted, her green eyes widening in terror as a white blur slid to a stop in front of her, snarling at the line of trees to her immediate left. Blinking, she realized it was the mercenary's wolf, massive and white, his fur puffed up as he growled, crouching protectively in front of her. She shuddered, wondering what the hell was wrong with it and why it had come out here seemingly alone.

She didn't have to wait long for an answer.

An arrow suddenly whizzed from the trees, and it would have hit her had the beast not suddenly spun and knocked her to the ground. A scream tore itself from her lips as she fell, her skirt ripping as it snagged on something she could not see, the wind knocked from her lungs as she lay there, staring at the sky, the wolf hovering over her.

It bristled, but would not allow her to sit up and gather her wits, even though Anna could hear heavy footsteps approaching her. Terror raced through every limb in her body and she finally managed to push herself backwards, away from the wolf, eyes settling on the several dark shapes that made their way from the trees – the bandits. Swallowing heavily, Anna glanced between the wolf and the men, certain that no matter how large it was it could not possibly defend both her and itself.

She was suddenly certain she was going to die, but she did not scream, her knuckles so tense they had turned white. If she was going to die, she was going to die fighting – Anna would never give up. She had to at least try to get back home to her family, no matter what, she had to -

There was a sudden rumble and a crack as the earth beneath the bandit's feet split and spit debris up at them, sending them skittering backwards. She stared in shock, swallowing again before she gathered her senses and frantically glanced around to search for an escape, but she found nothing. Even the sky, which had before seemed so blue, was now slightly overcast, making her feel as if survival were hopeless.

A sudden cry of agony drew her attention.

From one of the bandit's chests stuck a sword tip, dripping red with blood, a dark shape immediately behind the body, wrenching the sword back so that the man fell, twitching, onto the earth, where his blood pooled about him. The other bandits looked terrified, their attention drawn away from the crouching and snarling wolf, focusing on the shadow, which moved with an effortless speed that Anna could not follow with her gaze.

Only when the sound of steel meeting steel rang out did Anna's eyes finally focus enough that she could stare upon the face of her savior.

It was the mercenary, but he didn't look entirely as she remembered, a small seed of fire planted in the depths of his typically expressionless eyes, though his face remained as impassive as always. Yet there was a something in the way he bore himself in that moment, a something that called to mind images of a knight, of a man who selflessly bore the burdens of others, whose oath was as binding as a chain forged of starlight, invisible but eternal.

Could it be that she had been wrong about him?

Miss Irving, I do not run a charity service, no matter how much I may like to …

The calm was shattered as he pushed away the man he'd locked blades with, sending his assailant staggering backwards. He spun around to elbow another of the bandits in the gut, a shadow that had been trying to slash at him, catching their wrist in his hand and twisting their arm hard enough that they cried out and dropped their blade.

Then he launched himself backwards, landing and digging his feet into the ground before lashing out with a slash of his own that could not possibly hit either of the bandits, who were still somewhat dazed. The tip of his blade grazed the ground, Anna's eyes widening as it sent a shockwave that tore apart the land as it barreling toward the two bandits, who were making to move out of its way. Neither of them were as swift as the mercenary, who was now charging toward them in the aftermath of his incredible attack, his expression one of terrible concentration. One of the men took the full brunt of the attack to his gut and was sent flying backwards into a nearby tree, where he slumped, no longer moving.

The other staggered away from the man who suddenly and effortlessly swung his blade in an elegant and controlled arc. He did not stop his advance, sending another shockwave across the ground, straight at the bandit, who could do little more than let himself get hit, falling to his knees at the mercenary's feet.

"Get out," Kratos said, his voice icily cold, so cold that it chilled Anna to the core. "Take your unconscious companion with you, but leave your dead." He tapped the flat his sword against the side of the bandit's face, smearing blood there. "You can come back for him later, if you wish."

There was no response other than a stunned whimper.

"You are lucky," Kratos drawled, sounding uninterested in the man's plight, in the fact that he had his friend's blood dripping from his face. "I am usually not this merciful to my foes. Now go." He sheathed his blade. "Before I change my mind."

The man struggled to his feet and staggered off, hoisting his companion so that the man's arm was slung over his shoulder. Casting one look back toward them, vengeance in his eyes, he dragged his fellow away, disappearing into the trees.

Kratos turned to her then, and for a moment the world was suspended on their silence, an emotion playing briefly across his features, one she could not identify. It might have been relief, or even regret, but as soon as she saw it he became aware that she had and hid it again, crossing his arms over his chest as if to lock his secrets away from her prying eyes.

"Miss Irving, we must go back to Luin."

And just like that, any image she'd had of him as a knight rather than a brigand was shattered.

"What do you know?" she puffed up, clasping her pack closely to her chest. "I'm not going back with you. I have to get to Asgard, I have to get help."

The look he gave her then reminded of the look her mother used to give her when she had said something particularly stupid. He opened his mouth to retort, but she didn't stay to listen, instead turning around to walk off toward Asgard; she didn't have time to entertain a person like him. He had no right to condescend to her!

She got only a few steps away before she noticed that it had began to drizzle, matching her sullen mood. Smiling grimly, she determined that she was going to be just fine, even if she did get wet, and that firmly ignoring him had been the right choice.

It was the wrong conclusion to come to.

Kratos easily took a few steps until he stood in front of her, cutting her off. "Miss Irving, I believe we have already gone through this, however – "he reached for her, then, a surprisingly thick and muscular arm hooking itself about her waist and hoisting her over his shoulder in a single, fluid motion. "I am not a man of words, I am a man of action, and you will go back to Luin with me."

Anna cried out, beating at his back, dropping her pack in surprise. She felt helpless as she saw her goal slowly slip away, her hard won progress being forced from her at the hands of this stupid, arrogant mercenary.

For awhile she hammered her fists against him, demanding he put her down and let her do what she knew had to be done, but her cries fell on deaf ears. It seemed to Anna that if Kratos didn't want to hear something, he could block out even the gloating of a tyrant as he trampled the bodies of the innocent underfoot.

In the rain no one could see her cry, and the one person who might know she shed tears didn't have a heart to care with.

XxX

It had long ago stopped raining, and it had never picked up past a drizzle. She had also ceased her tears awhile back, something for which he was grateful. He was not really sure if she knew that he was aware of it or not, but her tears had made him feel guilty, though he had no real reason to be.

Kratos had never been good at comforting crying women.

He had focused on the distance to Luin, and now they were growing close; he could no longer feel her body shaking with sobs, and her screams and even grumbles of protest had long since ceased. There was not much she could to do escape him, something which he was certain she now knew, and so, with that in mind, he decided to extend an offer to her.

"Miss Irving, if you promise not to attempt to escape, I will put you down and you may walk."

He heard her sigh heavily and mutter a response, which was enough for him to stop walking and set her down, watching her rub her midsection in annoyance. Honestly, he doubted she'd been too uncomfortable; he'd taken care to handle her well and with care.

Watching her for a long moment, he was rather distracted when she reached back and slapped him across his cheek, making him snarl. She didn't back down, crossing her arms over her chest, her green eyes blazing with fury, fury that she really had no right to be ensnared by. After all, he had just saved her life.

"How dare you!" she hissed. "How dare you just think you can manhandle me like I'm some sack of potatoes! How dare you try to force your will onto me!"

He simply snorted at her angry ranting, leveling a glare at Noishe when the beast let out a snort that sounded mysteriously like laughter. He stopped, but looked amused, giving Kratos a doggy grin, his tail thumping the ground, a continuation of his previous laughter.

"And just why in the world would you think it was a good idea to follow me in the first place?" she demanded as he turned his attention back to her, cheek still stinging from her slap. "It's none of your business anyway!"

"On the contrary," his voice was crisper than he intended it to be, clearly annoyed; she acted like a child, and he couldn't help but treat her like one as a result. "You are my employer's daughter, and you made it my business when you attempted to sabotage my job." He paused, snorting as her mouth flapped open and closed, like a rather pretty fish. "Furthermore, there are dangers out here that you couldn't possibly understand. The bandits are the least of it, Miss Irving, and you have clearly never traveled if you think a few days provisions are enough to make it to Asgard in good condition."

He had to admit, when she floundered for words, he was satisfied. She was just a girl, and in some ways he felt bad for her, sheltered as she was, but people who ran their mouths and did not know tact deserved to eat their words every once in awhile.

Perhaps this would teach her a lesson.

Finally, she found her voice, jabbing her finger at his chest in what she probably assumed with a threatening gesture. "You still had no right to pick me up!"

Her face was flushed with rage, and he wondered vaguely at her reasoning. She clearly had no intention of doing the sensible thing and returning to town with him – And it was the sensible thing to do, clearly, the best decision that she could have made. Her life had just been threatened, legitimately threatened, which would have been enough to drive any normal person back to their safe, happy, life.

It was becoming clear to him that she was not a normal person.

Tilting his head, Kratos spoke in a tone that was so lofty he might have been a liege lord speaking to a serf. "And allow the brigands to return and overcome you?"

Her face reddened further, though this time it was embarrassment, her ears turning bright pink as she was forced, yet again, to swallow her words.

"Y-you mean you had a reason for it?" she asked. "You weren't just … trying to stop me from losing you this job?"

She blinked at him and he sighed, damning her naivety to hell. Didn't she understand people could have conflicting motives? Not everything was so black and white … "You couldn't lose me this job anyway, but the answer is no, I was not. I saved you because I could not simply leave you to die." He paused again, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at her with a level expression on his face. "Nothing more, nothing less."

Without warning, she settled her green eyes on him, as if trying to peel back his skin and read his thoughts. It made him feel singularly uncomfortable, for he hated to be scrutinized. He always had, even when he was a young child, being judged bothered him; Kratos would much rather do the judging, the assessing, to gauge whether or not a person was worth his time.

Finally, her critical scowl morphed into a grin, and she uncrossed her arms, placing them firmly on her hips and leaning toward him. Mischief glinted in her eyes, and Kratos suddenly had to swallow a feeling of dread.

What had he gotten himself into?

How did he get rid of her?

"You're right," she said in a light voice that stung more than the slap. "I was being stupid. You're the military expert and I was wrong, and you're also right that I know absolutely nothing about traveling and shouldn't have tried to do that." Her eyes sparkled. "But next time, warn me before you decide to pick me up."

She spun around, her long, brown maiden's hair trailing after her, and he arched his eyebrows, watching her begin to drift back to the village, almost meandering. The Irving girl seemed so much lighter than before, and he found himself suddenly self-conscious of what she had found in his face that had so suddenly changed her mind about him.

"Next time?" he snorted, striding after her, receiving only a laugh in response. "Miss Irving, are you insinuating that you plan to drag me into more of your harebrained adventures?"

She looked over her shoulder and winked at him, which was her only response as she danced away, leaving him behind to puzzle over her sudden change of heart.


	4. Making Sacrifices

Kratos leaned his head back, allowing the rays of the sun to touch his face and the breeze to ruffle his hair, basking for a moment in the glory of the early afternoon. Below he could hear them, the laughter of the townsman and women working on fortifying the grain storage silos on the outskirts of town.

He was above them on the scaffolding they'd built to help them replace the shingles on one of the barns. Before, he'd been watching Noishe beg scraps from Anna, who was in the midst of her family right now, laughing about something or other, some shared joke or secret. He smiled then, though only slightly, at the memory of his own family, his sister hanging from his arm, the way his mother would straighten his collar and sigh with pride as she gazed upon him …

But that was a long time ago, and only served to remind him why he could not get close to these people.

Slowly, he shook his head, going back to work, secretly glad to have work to do; it would keep his mind from that which he preferred not to dwell on. Kratos stood and walked easily across the scaffolding, picking up his hammer to get to work, glad that Anna had had such an idea. To be honest, Kratos was not used to living in such conditions any longer; he'd been so removed from the front for so long that he'd forgotten what it meant to need to secure his surroundings against attack.

But Anna was brilliant; she'd had the foresight to realize that the people would need to be defended while he and the men made their preparations, which is why they were doing this now. It was enough to make him respect her, perhaps become a bit fond of her the longer he spent in this quaint little place. It really wasn't in his best interest to form close bonds with anyone here as he would eventually have to move on, but being friendlier with her had not hurt. If anything, he felt more at ease here because of her.

Of course her brother had been the one to suggest the plan to fortify Luin, but that was only because Anna was not comfortable enough in her own skin to bring it up in front of so many others. It was a shame, really, because he had been getting credit for her brilliance the past two weeks and was doing nothing to defer the praise to his sister.

Kratos frowned as he worked, reminded of those who took credit for the hard work of others that he had personal experience with. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he sighed, stripping off his cloak and casting it to the ground as he began to perspire, ignoring all else around him but the sound of the hammer pounding against metal and wood.

"Nice arms!" a playful voice called up from below him.

Kratos found himself casting a glare at Anna, who was grinning from ear to ear. "Seriously, I know that Cody wouldn't mind if you stayed up there and worked yourself to death, but you need to eat."

Standing once more, the mercenary descended from the scaffolding, hopping the last few feet lithely to the ground. Now that he was closer to her, he could see her holding two brown packages to her chest, and realized that they would likely be eating together. At her side, Noishe wagged his tail, tongue lolled out, looking stupidly happy to be near the woman – Likely because she'd spent the last few weeks feeding him table scraps.

He cast the animal a glare, receiving a wolfy grin in response.

"I'm sure Cody wouldn't mind if the Lightning of Judgment struck me dead this very moment," Kratos told her, holding out his hand for the package, which she gladly rid herself of. "Are we eating in the usual place?"

"Why are you even bothering to ask?" she was already sashaying off, Noishe right behind her prancing away, leaving Kratos to stalk after them.

It wasn't long before they sat by the fountain, one next to the other, Anna picking the pickles off of her sandwich and throwing them to Noishe, who gobbled them up without a second thought. Kratos carefully snacked on his own food, taking small bites as he was not feeling particularly hungry at that moment in time.

Silence had fallen between them, though it was a comfortable one. Lunches were often like this when they ate with one another, quiet and calm, much to his satisfaction. Kratos preferred meditation to lengthy conversations, even if he did not mind the girl's company.

The peace did not last, however.

"I don't think I ever thanked you for saving my life," he heard her mutter, and found himself glancing toward her out of the corner of his eye, finding her staring at the sandwich that now sat cradled in her lap. "I mean, really thanked you. I realize now I would have died if you didn't come to save me that day."

He was tempted to ask her what prompted this line of thought, but simply shook his head. "I told you, it is bad for business to allow the daughter of my employer to die."

Anna snorted and looked up at the sky, Kratos' eyes flickering away from her to stare out at the water. "We both know you don't really mean that, Kratos. I mean, I'm sure that's part of it," he could hear her wan smile. "You run a business and you do have to look out for it, I know that now. But …"

He felt her hand tap his chest, right above his heart, a motion that made him freeze – She was the first person to touch him in … "I know you have a heart, Kratos. You use it to choose your jobs, and it's why you don't take work from Desians, or work as an assassin."

To be frank, her words shocked him. It was a vote of confidence in his humanity, a vote of confidence that he was guided by some sort of moral compass, more than he was guided by practicality or pride. What she said touched him, in a way, because she was the first person to treat him as such in a very long time … But in that same token, there was a reason people did not regard him the way she did.

"Your mind will be changed before my time here is spent," Kratos's voice sounded distant, even to his own ears. "I promise you that, Anna. It is for pride's sake I do what I do. Pride … and duty."

She snorted, but didn't respond for a long while. All he could hear was the sound of her chewing angrily. He ignored her, focusing again on his own food, his movements far more deliberate and methodical than hers were, as he was concentrated on the action of eating and she concentrated on her own thoughts.

Nosily, she swallowed and spoke again. "I don't believe you. I think you're lying to yourself, Kratos."

"A job is only a job, Anna," he told her firmly, ignoring Noishe's long, keening whine and the girl's intense stare. "No matter how much we may wish for it to be otherwise."

She looked like she was about to say something, but was cut short when Cody's voice called for her. Muttering something to herself, her words garbled but disgruntled, she pushed herself to her feet, yelled at her brother to "keep his pants on", and cast one last look at Kratos over her shoulder before running off, tossing Noishe her food as she left.

The creature let it fall to the ground, placing his massive head on Kratos' lap as if to promise his companion that everything would turn out alright in the end.

XxX

"I don't know what you see in him, Annie," Cody slouched beside her, his hands pushed deeply into the pockets of his trousers. "He's such a frustrating jackass! Just look at him, every dinner time, smugly not eating your food in front of us even though he sits at the table!"

Anna was as amused by Cody's hatred of Kratos as she was annoyed by it. Amused because she knew her brother well enough to recognize his jealousy, after all he treated Troy the same way, and annoyed because Cody clearly thought there was something going on between her and Kratos when there wasn't.

Sure, he was handsome, but she wasn't interested in him that way at all. She liked him mostly because, like Troy, he wasn't from Luin and was nothing like the people around her, and nothing like any of the other travelers she'd ever met. Kratos had stories, experiences she didn't share, had been places Anna had only dreamed about, and she loved discussing those things with him, and as far as she could tell, he liked the company.

She had a feeling not many people talked to him, and that when they did the conversations weren't very good.

"He doesn't like to eat in front of other people," Anna shrugged. "He's weird about that kind of thing, not that you'd know since you've never, you know, talked to him."

Cody didn't say anything at first, there was nothing he really could say to that one because he knew she was right. Eventually, though, he managed to grumble out a response. "I can feel like I'm the only one who can see what he really is anymore."

Anna snorted. "You said that same thing about Troy, and look what he turned out to be like –" He looked likely to cut her off, so she held up a finger to silence him. "No, Troy is a good person. You just don't like him because he wants to marry me."

"We're not talking about Troy," Cody pointed out. "Compared to Kratos, Troy is like … A butterfly, or something. Just a smarmy one."

Anna made a face. "He's a merchant! He's going to dress a bit gaudy, you can't just –" She cut herself off and took a deep breath. "But you're right, this is about Kratos. And he saved my life, so you can just shut up about him now."

Cody looked at her as if she were insane as they strolled along together, heading toward the Inn. "Just because he saved your life doesn't make him a good person, Anna."

"I know how he comes off," her tone was brusque, she made sure of it, otherwise Cody would walk all over her, would take her pauses as an opportunity to speak over her and twist her words against her. "I know what he seems like on the surface … Because I thought the same thing. But when he was saving me, I saw … Something."

She waved her hand, picturing that knightly visage, the way he had seemed so single-mindedly determined to protect her. There was no selfishness in that face, no ill-intent. "Do you remember what Dad used to read us stories? About knights and kings and all of that stuff?"

Cody nodded, waiting for her to finish, though she could tell by the look on his face he was having none of that nonsense and wouldn't believe her no matter what she said.

His loss.

"It's … When he was fighting I glimpsed something that kind of reminded me of that," she looked away from her brother, looking up at the sky, at the clouds trailing overhead. "There was a deep conviction, a virtue, in the depth of his eyes. This burning … something. It was like a knight in one of those stories, Cody. I think maybe there's more to him than even he likes to think there is. So that's why I trust him."

He groaned. "You sound like you're talking about a lost puppy, Anna! He's a dangerous mercenary! You can't just take him home and keep him and try to help every lost cause you see just because you happen to think that maybe he was a good person once! Especially him! Because he's a lost cause that can kill you!"

"He won't hurt me," she told him simply.

There was a tension between them for awhile before Cody sighed and ran his hand over his face. "You just think he's hot. Admit it."

Anna scowled and shot out her fist to punch him in the arm as hard as she could, earning a loud "ow!" for her efforts. Satisfied, she turned away and looked down the road as they meandered toward their destination.

"She would have been proud of you," Cody said suddenly. "For all of this. For what you've done for the city. Mom would have been proud."

Her head snapped around and she stared at him, swallowing a bit as she thought of her mother and her long, blonde hair and smiling green eyes. It had been so long since she'd seen that face, a person she would never see again in this world. It hurt profoundly even though it bad been almost ten years since …

"What's got you thinking such morbid thoughts?" Anna bumped shoulders with him, her voice growing soft as she thought of her mother, of the way her voice had sounded, of their hours together in the kitchen, cooking and baking.

"You kind of remind me of her sometimes," he shrugged, and Anna found herself looking at him again, though he was looking anywhere but at her face. He must be remembering her, too. "Just the things you say, how you always see the good in people. She was quieter about it than you are, but it's the same thing."

Anna wasn't really sure what to say about that, finding it impossible that she was anything like her even tempered, gentle mother. She was stubborn and wild, a tomboy by nature, who had caused Ellen Irving endless problems with her rowdy nature. They'd gotten in more fights than Anna could count, and she'd only been twelve when her mother had passed away …

"Maybe," was all she said as the came up to the door of the inn. "I have to go make food before those stupid, hungry men get here and start causing me problems," and with that she skipped up the steps and left her brother to go chop wood for their stove.

XxX

Kratos filed into the back of the room soundlessly, watching the old men up front squabble about nothing in particular. They were discussing the fortifications, of course, and how very costly they were, but that was not coming out of Kratos' pay and so he did not particularly care how much it cost them.

He was only here because it was part of his contract, nothing more, nothing less.

Noishe sat beside him and Anna was bustling around in the kitchen, making sure that everyone would have food for the supper after the meeting, and likely setting aside a plate, as she'd taken to doing for him now. Sighing, Kratos scratched his companion behind the ears, exchanging a glance with him at the mention of the words "human ranch".

"The Desians attempted to track us on our way from Asgard," Kratos muttered to the beast, who sat up with a great huff. "Not that it would have done them terribly much good."

Noishe snorted in agreement, perking his ears to listen to the conversation of the townsman, as did his patient human.

"—Rumors filtering in from the few merchants passing through town since we started fighting off the bandits," said the mayor. "They may be planning an attack."

There was a general murmuring and debate that filled the common room with buzzing. Kratos could catch a few snippets of conversation that made him frown. A moment later he from his seat and silently slipped from the Inn, leaving Noishe behind with the members of the Committee.

As he'd hoped, the dusk air of the lake town was cool enough to clear his head, dispelling the hazy heat of the Inn from his face and the buzzing in his ears that the static of many speaking voices produced. Here, the dirt streets lit by the red rays of the sinking sun, Kratos could focus his thoughts on the negative of the Desians rumored arrival.

Pursing his lips and running his tongue over the roof of his mouth he began to walk to the lake front, brooding about how he could not stay if they were to arrive, for they could not see him. Running into them might spell disaster for this town if he were not careful – After all, he did have a history of the Desians.

These were his thoughts as he stormed toward the lake.

He was enveloped deeply in his own thoughts, deeply enough that a figure hiding in the shadows perhaps thought he would not catch the familiar flash of blue from the corner of his eye. That shape did not anticipate how quickly he would move, how he would leap into the shadowed alley and slam the form against the side of the nearest building, holding it by the scruff of its collar and shaking it roughly.

Indeed, the face was familiar, angular and long, thin lips pulled up into an uncanny sneer, green eyes leering at him from behind the few strands of truly sky blue hair that had come loose from its restraints. The shoulders of the man shook with suppressed laughter, likely of the bitter variety; Kratos did not relinquish his hold.

"What in the name of mana are you doing here?" Kratos hissed, his voice no more than a breath ticking the man's ear.

Long, keening, peals of quiet laughter escaped his prisoner's lips, and Kratos found himself tightening his hold on the other enough to make him wince in pain, his eyes at one hardening to cruel emeralds.

"I could ask you the same thing," he growled.

Kratos stared at his captive a long moment before sighing deeply and shaking his head. "I am on assignment." His eyes narrowed and he loosened his grip, feeling the other reach up to grab his shoulders as if to push him away, but he did not, his hands simply lingered. "That is more than I can say for you."

There was a moment in which they simply stared at one another, Kratos' dark eyes searching the depths of the other's face for signs of deception. Surprisingly, he found none, no ill-will, only annoyance and a bit of latent hostility. This time, Yuan Ka-Fai was not hiding anything, so without a word Kratos dropped him.

"You're not going to turn me in," Yuan muttered, dusting himself off and straightening his back before turning back to the man and staring him in the eyes.

"Of course not," Kratos folded his arms across his chest and frowned. "I am sure you are here on assignment anyway, though I doubt you are supposed to be in the same area as me." It was a simple observation – Unlike Kratos, Yuan often went other places in addition to where their leader wished for them to go.

Yuan said nothing for a minute, only stared at him with an unnerving intensity that might have brought a lesser man to tears - Kratos simply started back.

The spy sighed after his pause and closed his eyes before speaking. "I should warn you to move out, I suppose. The Desians are planning to raid this town soon. Not," Yuan clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and slowly opened his eyes, grinning a bit, "that you really have anything to worry about from them. They couldn't even scratch you."

Of course they could not. They had not even been able to catch him before when they had caught the scent of his trail outside of Asgard. Oh, they had chased him, of course, but to no avail. It had been good sport, proving to himself that he could out run them.

"I cannot leave until I assist these people with their problem," Kratos explained simply, "despite the fact that it may, as you would say, "blow my cover".' He shrugged lazily, taking a few steps back to lean against the wall opposite Yuan; it was of no real concern to him what happened to these people, he had simply made a promise and intended to see it through.

"Playing the hero now, are we?" Yuan snorted, shaking his head slowly. "Haven't you sold yourself to the dark side, Aurion? Lost your compassion to soullessness? I thought you didn't feel anything anymore - Not for these people." Another pause, and Kratos found himself wondering if, perhaps, Yuan were right, though he pushed the thought from his mind as quickly as it had come. "Besides – Wouldn't getting too attached to them be bad for business?"

"I need to learn to act like them," Kratos said simply, as if that were all the explanation anyone could ever desire of him. "But I don't have time for your banter, Ka-Fai."

"Afraid we'll be seen?" his tone was obnoxiously airy, as if they were leisurely strolling through a park and having a nice chat about the weather. "Come on now, we're just having a chat. Can't you spare a moment for your old friend?"

"Only if you cut the nonsense and tell me who sent you to spy on me," to his great chagrin, Yuan simply laughed.

"Relax, Aurion," Yuan waved off his annoyance, his face smug. "I'll tell you later, if I have the chance, I just want to know why the hell he sent you, of all people?

"Who knows? Maybe he assumes I have the least chance of being assassinated?" Kratos looked at his old companion and current ally. "He's probably correct."

Yuan snorted again and seemed about to say something when he was cut off by the sound of a familiar voice calling Kratos' name. Craning his head, the mercenary glanced back down the alleyway before looking back toward his old companion, who had already turned to go.

"Your keeper is calling you," he said to Kratos. "Best answer before they grow suspicious."

Kratos narrowed his dark eyes before mirroring Yuan's own snort and turning away. "This isn't over."

"Of course not," came the response, but Kratos did not turn around to look at the speaker, knowing he would already be walking in the opposite direction.

XxX

She jumped when she saw him from the corner of her eye.

As usual, he had a way of moving that was silent, so silent that one didn't know when he would turn up behind them to stare at them with his dark and expressionless eyes. This time, though, he looked even more distant, as if he'd suddenly been reminded of a reality he'd rather escape. It made her feel bad for him, and, she thought, she could certainly understand that feeling.

Trying to get his mind off of things, she placed her hands on her hips and grinned up at him. "Where did you run off to, Aurion?"

He stared at her for a moment longer, his already prominent brow furrowing deeply as he searched for an answer. "I needed to clear my head. It was getting hot in that crowded Inn and I was growing tired of the pointless chatter."

Anna laughed and tugged playfully on the edge of his cloak. "Well, maybe if you didn't wear so many layers in this heat …" she winked at him. "Come on, let's go to the lake. I need some air, too, and it's going to be pretty quiet this time of day."

For the second time that day, they quietly made their way to the waterfront, side by side. Kratos was brooding and Anna herself was melancholy, still consumed with the thoughts of her mother that cooking had done nothing to expel.

They'd shared that time, long ago. Some of her best memories of her mother were in that kitchen, laughing and talking as they sliced potatoes for that night's dish … And there were few things they shared besides their eyes.

Anna really would never be half the woman her mother was.

Shaking herself, Anna looked back up to Kratos, whose handsome face was more openly troubled than it had been the last time she'd looked at him. Maybe it was the lighting as they strolled down a grassy slope, cutting through yards as they took a shortcut to their favorite destination, but there was something unearthly about the way he looked, almost like a painting of some ancient battle, faded with age but somehow more potent than it had ever been in its prime.

"Is there something on my face?" his eyes flickered toward her and she shook her head, smiling bemusedly.

"Not at all."

He furrowed his brow again and then looked away, and she wanted to laugh at him; laugh because she was beginning to realize after two weeks of forcing her way into his life out of boredom that he really was terrible with small talk.

It was almost endearing, in a strange sort of way, since most mercenaries seemed to excel at it. In her experience, talking to others and gaining information was how they got their jobs, but Kratos was all eerily accurate snap judgments and grandiose speeches. There was no smarm, no falsely charming grins, just earnest brevity and harshness that he seemed to wear like a second skin.

But he was still a mercenary, even if he was an odd one, Anna realized with a strange sense of finality as they finally came to the fountain. Even as they sank to their seats, it weighed on her chest like a small child was sitting upon it, enough that, after a few moments of silence, she spoke her thoughts. "So … when this is all over, you're leaving, right?"

He blinked at her, turning his head slowly to face her, seeming somewhat confused. Of course he didn't realize it, but Anna felt like they were almost kind of friends; he really was a pretty interesting guy, and he didn't judge her for talking about the things she enjoyed, unlike her brother. Kratos always gave her his clear attention, as if every word she spoke was far from mundane, as if it were somehow vastly important. At first that intensity frightened her – She'd felt like he was studying her so he could learn her mannerisms – but now she realized that it was simply who he was and it was as comforting to her as her brother's playful jabs.

Two weeks and he'd gone from a total stranger to a familiar sight, but Anna had always been too sentimental.

"I will no longer have a reason to stay," every word was deliberately spoken; though she had the odd feeling he was being more candid than usual. "I may move on to Hima."

Her brow furrowed in mimic of his most constant expression. "What's in Hima?"

She watched as his face briefly animated itself into a pale grin and a few snorts that might have been laughter escaped his throat. "What, indeed?" Kratos levied a sigh that felt like punctuation to her ears, marking the end of his brief mirth. "Other adventurers. I suspect I shall find work there, though of the more … unsavory variety."

She didn't ask what that meant; from the look on his face, she wasn't really sure that she wanted to know. Instead, she wrung her hands together and looked away from his face, staring out at the distant line of trees on the opposite shore of the lake. "I wish I could be like you, you know," she told him. "I wish I could … Could travel. See the world. But I'm stuck here until Cody finds a wife who won't burn down the kitchen and can help him run the Inn. The boys … They'd be lost without me."

And even then she may not be able to leave, she told herself. That was why she kept turning down Troy's proposal, because she couldn't bear to see her father lose someone else he loved, even if it was just to marriage. She may be miserable stuck here in this town, but if she married a local guy at least they would be able to see each other …

Even if she was giving up her dreams for them.

Anna didn't mind.

It was what her mother would have done.

His quiet voice shocked her, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe she hadn't really been expecting him to respond? But respond he did, and with his response came the feeling of his eyes on her. "You should leave if you wish it. You do not really seem suited to such a quaint life, even from what little I know of you."

"What choice do I have?" she felt bitter tears sting her eyes but held them back by biting the inside of her cheek. "It's not like there's a point to it. Nothing ever happens to boring small town girls like me. We grown old and die just like everyone else."

"Morose," he said with a scoff. "But you do not have to play the role you feel you have been assigned to. Often we have urges to change our path if we are on the wrong one, so take your chance while you can," she looked to him again and saw him close his eyes. "While it is still within your power to change things."

For some reason it sounded like a warning.

"But … what am I giving up in the process?" Anna picture Cody in her mind, her father, Richard and William, even Grace, and imagined them driven to tears because she'd left them for Troy.

Could she really do that to her family?

There was another long silence in which neither of them spoke, though Anna sensed the Kratos wanted to say something and simply wasn't sure how to phrase it. So she waited, waited as the later afternoon turned into sunset and the waters turned pink and gold to match the brilliance of the sky.

It was only when the sun was just about to sink below the trees that Kratos finally spoke.

"We have to make sacrifices," she watched him, watched as he stood fluidly, his eyes even more distant, thought this time she could read sadness in them as he stared down at her.

Anna felt that he'd let her see it, that this time she was meant to know exactly what he was feeling.

"Nothing in this world is for free."

His words rang in her ears with the weight of a universal truth long after he'd left.


	5. Paying the Price

Anna woke to the sound of arguing coming from the common room. Creeping down the stairs, she found herself face to face with Kratos, who was about to leave the Inn. He stopped upon seeing her and looked into her face, his dark eyes searching for something in their depths before he sighed and leaned against Noishe.

To be honest, he looked almost … amused? His lips had quirked up into a half smirk and his eyes glinted with something that Anna could only call satisfaction. "It seems there are a few new guests this morning," Kratos said, finally turning away from her. "Your brother is not terribly fond of one of them."

Before she could say anything, he spun and slipped out the door. She watched only long enough to see it close softly in his wake, contemplating why he hadn't stayed for breakfast, which he usually did, before she decided to go see what the commotion was.

"Ah! There she is! The woman of the hour!"

The familiar voice was accompanied by a wave, and Anna laughed, launching herself across the room and into the man's arms. "Troy!" Her arms looped around his neck and she gazed up into his oddly charming face, made breathless by his stunning smile and his clear, blue eyes. "You should have written ahead! I look like crap!"

Troy just laughed and ran a hand through his head of wavy brown hair. "Anna, you could never look like crap."

"Ugh. Sweet Martel, not in front of me," Anna's head swiveled to glare at her brother, who was making gagging noises.

"Fine. We'll go somewhere else," Anna released Troy and smiled sweetly at Cody, taking the merchant's hand to drag him from the room. "Come on, Troy, let's go get sweet rolls. Since you almost never come to town, I'll take the day off and spend it with you. I'm sure Cody won't mind doing my chores for the day."

"W-what!? Anna, you can't just –" Cody's floundering was cut off by Troy's barking laughter.

"I think she just did, buddy," Troy grinned and winked in the cheeky way that had initially attracted Anna to him, waving in playful goodbye as Anna ushered him away before Cody could talk his way out of it.

Once they left the Inn, all it took was one glance to make the both of them double over in laughter.

"Oh man, oh man," Troy gasped. "Some things never change. Your brother is the King Grouch – Though looking at that mercenary, I may have to demote him to Prince Grouch." He straightened as he caught his breath, chuckling a bit and shaking his head. "Did he win a bug swallowing contest, or what?"

Anna propped herself up on his shoulder. "You mean Kratos Aurion? He's … Kind of special. Don't let him get to you, he's just not a very pleasant guy to be around, and I mean that in the nicest possible way."

Something dark flickered across Troy's face, and Anna frowned, backing up and placing her hands on her hips. "Troy…?"

Troy shook himself and took her hand, kissing the back of it cordially. "Let's go get those sweet rolls, huh? I'll tell you about the other time I've heard that name one we go to the usual spot and get settled in, promise."

Without giving her time to respond, he tugged her gently to the marketplace, talking his way into getting two sweet rolls for the price of one with his usual easy charisma. That was the reason Cody didn't like him, of course. He thought that just because Troy was good at getting what he wanted for cheap it made him a bad person. Anna knew, of course, that it was part of what made him so good at his job, and that he wouldn't do it if he wasn't trying to show off for her –

After all, this was the man who had proposed to her.

She was too preoccupied with his words to really be impressed by something she'd seen so many times before, though. His face when she'd mentioned Kratos' name had … Well, it had bothered her. As a merchant, Troy got around, he heard things, and she wondered just what sort of things might be said about Kratos Aurion.

Anna had a feeling she didn't really want the answer to that question.

"So, are you sure that's really Kratos Aurion?" Troy asked as he flopped onto the bench, looking out at the lake; it was almost funny comparing him to Kratos, who'd sat there the day before.

Troy was much smaller.

"I'm sure," Anna didn't sit, her legs feeling as restless as a nagging worry ate at her stomach. "You don't … Really forget someone like Kratos. He's kind of impossible to."

He sighed. "Well that's … bad news. I just got in from Asgard. They had some problems with a mercenary by that name – He apparently threatened one of the priesthood with decapitation and said some really heretical things about some of the Angels. And on a festival day, too!"

She closed her eyes, picturing Kratos towering over a man of the cloth, his hand on the hilt of his blade, his eyes blazing with cold passion. Anna could hear him making that threat, his voice as sharp and cold as the steel of his blade, and almost laughed as a result. "Oh man, I wonder what the guy did? He must have really crossed a line for Kratos to make that kind of threat."

Troy's frown sharpened. "Anna, this isn't a joke. They call him the Black Demon in the Triet region. He may be hailed as a hero in Palmacosta, but he causes problems everywhere else he goes." He sighed and rubbed his brow. "I hear stuff about him all over. He just came out of nowhere a few months ago, no background, no anything, and started taking jobs. He's ruthless, unapproachable and charges up the wazoo for things as simple as escort jobs."

"Well, we can't exactly kick him out," Anna returned his frown, wondering what, exactly, Kratos had done to earn the title "Black Demon", but she shook the thought away. "Luin's hired him to help deal with the bandits that are hovering on the outskirts. He's the only reason you're able to be in town right now."

She watched him blink and take a bite of his sweet roll. It was such a mundane gesture that she found herself finally able to relax enough to take her seat beside him. "Black Demon or not, I owe him my life, Troy. I would have died without him watching my back."

"Whoa, wait, what?" Troy stuttered with a mouth full of crumbs. "Died?" he swallowed. "No one said anything about that!"

"We kept it quiet," she shrugged and leaned her head back, feeling the cool spray from the fountain fall on her face. "Dad and Cody would have been furious with me for being so stupid, so he agreed not to tell them. But I almost got myself killed trying to get help for Luin. It's only because he saw me leaving and decided to act on it that I'm still alive now."

"Huh, so that explains the … The glaring … And stuff… Between him and Cody," and just like that the subject changed. "You spend a lot of time together?"

Laughter poured from her lips like water bubbled from the fountain. "Oh man, are you jealous, Troy? Worried that he's so handsome that it would overpower my aversion to his asshole personality?"

They suddenly both began to laugh, leaning against one another for support. After a moment he quickly kissed her brow and pulled back, looking into her eyes. "Nah, I know we're stuck together, you and me. If I know you like I think I do, you're probably just curious about all the things he's seen." He paused. "I have to admit, I'm pretty curious about him, too. Even his name is mysterious."

And with that they began to gossip, enjoying the glow of their own love as they looked out on the water, forgetting the woes of the world around them.

XxX

Kratos heard the chair across from him creak and looked up just in time to see a hooded figure sinking down, green eyes flashing from underneath the rim of the hood. Nodding in acknowledgement, he raised his glass to his lips and took a drink; his eyes flickering back to stare into the dusty pub, filled with no one but the town drunks this time of morning. It was a good setting to hold their conversation for this reason; the drunks wouldn't care and the bartender couldn't hear them.

Still … The hood …

"You are ridiculous," Kratos said, placing his cup carefully on the table. "The hood makes you look conspicuous."

"Worse than my hair?" He stole the glass and took a drink, making a face. "Water, Aurion? Seriously? Who in the name of the Elvin Homeworld goes to a bar and drinks water?"

"Your hair is not actually as much of an issue as you seem to think, Ka-Fai," Kratos leaned back, ignoring the insult; if he had to explain to Yuan why he could not afford to be inebriated … "Simply carry around a sword and no one questions you."

"Oh yes, so I should follow your brilliant example," he snorted and took another drink of the water, despite having complained about it. "That's why half of Triet is terrified of you and the other half thinks you're some kind of fire spirit trapped in human form."

"I cannot be held accountable for what happened in Triet," Kratos pointed out smoothly. "I should likely be more surprised that you heard about that incident."

"Arceus told me," Yuan shrugged. "I'm here on his behalf, actually. Old gaffer is getting too old to be chasing a spry young thing like you around the countryside."

This earned Yuan a very amused sounding snort. "He couldn't make it himself?" he took the glass from Yuan's hands, swirled the liquid in it about, and downed it all in one gulp, watching Yuan make a disgruntled face in response. "Shame."

"Ouch. Cold," Yuan leaned back. "But what do I expect? He's never really respected you."

"I know."

Kratos didn't say that it was because he was of a different species than they both were – Yuan would already know. Context made it painfully obvious.

A silence spanned between them and Kratos sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and attempting to dredge up a new topic of conversation. At least he knew why Yuan was here – At least in part. If he knew Yuan like he thought he did, the other would use the trip as an excuse to do something shady that Kratos would, as usual, pretend to ignore out of the memory of what their relationship had once been.

"I don't know why any of them even bother," Yuan suddenly grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Kratos looked to him and found that he was staring off into the distance, his hood hiding his face and conveniently masking his expression, making it more difficult for Kratos to read him. "You always get the stamp of approval anyway," he mimicked stamping animatedly, reminding Kratos of the time before the rift had grown between them. He could almost believe nothing had changed were they talking about anything other than business.

There was another long pause in which Kratos simply placed his hands on the table and stared at his own knuckles, listening to the sound of his companion breathing.

"I thought you were disillusioned with all of this?"

The tone of voice drew Kratos' attention more than the actual words. It was soft, almost pleading, not something he had heard tumble from his old allies' lips in … A good many years. The last time he'd heard that tone it had been just after –

Ah, well, that was a long time ago.

"I am," he said simply, looking up into Yuan's eyes. "But I made a promise, Yuan. I cannot break it."

Yuan's eyes flashed, but not with anger. Instead, it seemed like he had come to some sudden realization. His lips twitched into a smirk and he leaned back in his chair, "You always were stupidly loyal. Some things … Really don't change. It's oddly comforting." He inhaled sharply. "So," and then exhaled. "Enjoying playing the hero, Aurion?"

"Oh?" he arched his eyebrows and tilted his head. "Is that what I am doing? I had no idea …"

"I'm pretty sure they love you," Yuan chuckled and shook his head. "Or at least that girl does. She looks at you with hero worship in those doe eyes of hers."

"I saved her life. In her eyes I can do no wrong," he pursed his lips, pausing. "Thankfully," he added after a moment, "I will not be staying long enough to shatter her illusion of me. I would like to leave her with a little hope, at least."

"Sounds like someone's taken a fancy to her," his companion's voice was sing-song, disgustingly so.

"It is not like that. She simply …" he waved his hand, trying to place words to the reason why he admired her spirit. "She reminds me of things that once were and should still be but are not."

A retort seemed to be on the tip of Yuan's lips, but a sudden, ear slitting scream interrupted them and drove Kratos to his feet, his hand tightening on the hilt of his blade. Outside he could hear a clamor begin, an assault …

Tch.

It was probably the bandits. It figured they would attempt an attack on Luin after all Kratos had done to whittle away at their forces over the past weeks – Ah, well. A foolish move on their part …

Desperation bred stupidity. Now they were corralled and he could simply done with them as he wished.

"Sounds like they need their big, scary, mercenary," Yuan hummed. "Go, Kratos, enjoy your little game for awhile longer."

There was a pause as their eyes locked once more and they exchanged a long and meaningful glace. It ended only when Yuan spoke again, this time more softly. "Enjoy your humanity for a short time longer, old friend."

Kratos smiled a savage, cold, smile with no joy in it.

"Do not worry," he turned to go. "I fully intend to."

XxX

Anna didn't know when it had happened, when she had heard the first screams, but she now found herself dashing madly through Luin with a grizzled looking man chasing after her, blunt axe in hand. Somewhere between the fountain and the docks she'd been separated from Troy, and though she should be frantically praying for his safety, the presence of that dully glinting blade was more important to her than anything else.

She'd never been so terrified that she was going to die, not even when those bandits had attacked her.

Lungs burning, Anna concentrated all her energy onto simply living, willing her feet to carry her left and into a smithy – Her eyes glanced around frantically for something, anything, that she could use as a weapon and lighted on some sort of skewer.

It would have to be enough.

Fumbling for it, she held it in her hands and spun around just in time to see the man barge in after her, grinning savagely like he had finally managed to corner his prey. Anna realized he probably thought he had, but she had no intention of dying, not here, not when there was still so much she had to do.

Screaming, Anna charged, closing her eyes and thrusting the poker forward. She grimaced as she felt it slip through the man's chest, and peeking open her eye, stared at the man as he went limp, the light fading from his eyes. Gulping, Anna fell backwards, taking her poker with her and scurrying away from the body.

Her heartbeats thundered in her ears and her hands began to shiver with the realization of what she'd done wrong. She wasn't sure if time was speeding forward or if it had slowed to a crawl, but she felt hot tears leak from her eyes and could do nothing to stop them, her body shuddering with the realization that she'd just killed someone.

She didn't realize she was crying into two strong hands grabbed her wrists and she almost recoiled from the cold strength in those appendages. It was only that touch, at that point, that grounded her, that allowed her to gulp down her sobs and stare into the face of her unwanted companion.

"Steady." It took a moment for her to register that the dark eyes and deep voice belonged to Kratos. "It will be okay. Take deep breaths, Irving."

She gasped and nodded, freeing her wrists to fling her arms around his neck and hide her face in his shoulder. Anna felt his entire body go rigid with the contact, but he seemed to relax after a moment, and his soft words rose about her to wrap her in a comforting embrace. "The first time is always the hardest," a heavy hand fell upon her head. "But you had no choice. Breathe."

Anna felt her world settle, the contact with Kratos, the words he spoke, drawing her out of her own head. She still felt sick, but … But she thought she might be able to stand.

As if sensing this, Kratos picked her up and set her on her feet, his hands steadying her by lingering on her shoulders. He looked down at her intently, though she found she could not meet his eyes – not quite. She wasn't ready for what she'd see there.

"I … I killed him …" her own voice was raw from sobbing.

"I know," his words were harsh, forcing her eyes to his face as if he had physically turned her head upward. They almost seemed to command her to stand straighter, to face what she had done. "Your brother is outside, waiting for you." He backed off and offered her his hand, which she hesitated to take, prompting a sigh.

"You will be fine," he said again, his hand remaining outstretched. "It is not something you will forget, but you will be fine. I promise that it becomes easier to live with over time."

Blinking and gulping, Anna realized that Kratos had … Had killed people before, that it was his job, and that she could trust him about what it felt like. Raising her hand, she took his offer and allowed herself to be pulled numbly into the sunlight.

She'd no idea how long she'd been there, but it was already nearly sunset. It must have been awhile.

Dazedly, she glanced to Cody, who looked horrified. Glancing down at herself, Anna found that she was covered in a bit of blood.

Her stomach churned again, but she quickly stopped thinking about it when Cody rushed forward to seize Kratos' collar and shake him violently, his eyes spitting righteous flame. Kratos simply grabbed his wrists in an attempt to still him and looked fed up enough to hit him, but did not back down.

Rage shot through her.

"Cody, shut up!" Her voice was louder than she thought it was, and both men suddenly stared at her, blinking. Cody's hands loosened and dropped to his sides, where they twitched, but his eyes never left her.

Anna ignored him, turned to Kratos. "Go help everyone else. Troy is missing, so could you … Could you …" She couldn't really bear to say the words, to think that something might have happened to him, but Kratos seemed to understand.

Nodding once, he strode away, leaving her alone with her stupid brother, who was still staring at her. She could feel his hesitance in his gaze, as if he was terrified that she would break if he said the exact wrong thing.

As much as she hated to admit it, he was probably right.

"Let's go," Anna said, not wanting to think about what she had just done. "We should probably try to find Dad."

"Y-yeah," Cody agreed, not pushing her any farther than she was willing to go, something that she was actually grateful for.

Without a word the two siblings began to walk down the street, searching for their father.

XxX

Kratos swiftly made his way through the streets, recalling how pale that girl's face had been in the wake of what she had done. Her hands, they'd trembled, and she was colder than he was to the touch, something that made him frown now, even thinking about it.

It had been a long time since he'd seen an innocent exposed to death like that, a civilian having their naivety ripped from them violently. As he knelt to pull a fallen stall off of a aged woman, Kratos remembered another face, staring in terror at bloody hands, that face much younger than that of Anna Irving. Those green eyes, filled with tears, tears of disbelief that he had taken another life …

That image stabbed his heart and he frowned sharply.

"Th-thank you," the elder muttered and took the hand he hadn't realized he'd outstretched toward her; that aged face was grateful, but wary, watery brown eyes filled with deep concern, likely for her own life.

Kratos realized that he must cut a startling image to her, head and shoulders taller than anyone else, sword hanging at his side … Yes, he must be terrifying to those who did not understand the burden that a swordsman carried. Yet that girl now knew, she understood what it was like to take a life, what killing meant. She could feel it squarely between her shoulders, the weight of a life, which he carried countless numbers of.

"I am simply doing my job," he said as he pulled her to her feet. "Head for shelter."

He left her there, not checking to see that she did as he instructed.

What he had said to Anna was true. One never did forget the first life they took. Kratos himself could still remember his blade sliding home, and the feeling of that body going limp around his blade, the sight of the life draining from his assailant's eyes. He'd had training to deal with it as well, he had known what to expect, and he still remembered, because it had taught him that even the life of your enemy had value, that killing meant impacting the world.

It had also taught him that sometimes one had no choice but to kill, and that it was the job of people like him to make sure that most people never had to understand the impact of killing.

I make sacrifices so others do not have to.

That was what he had once told his pupil, long ago. It was what he still believed now – That it was the job of men like him to wear death as a shroud to prevent well-meaning people like the Irvings from having to suffer.

It meant being hated and alone, but he did not mind.

Such a thing was Kratos' weight and his weight alone to bear, and he would bear it with dignity.

The sound of combat drew him from his thoughts, and he effortlessly broke into a sprint, rounding a corner into a clearing near the entrance to the Inn, where he found Drake Irving, holding off a few attackers with a broom and a hand axe. His dark eyes landed on Kratos and he grinned, though it was strained, and with a frown Kratos noticed he was favoring his right arm.

"Hey! Kratos! A little help?" He grunted as his attacker took advantage of the fact that he was distracted to level a blow at him with his heavy broad blade, which he just barely managed to block with the quickly diminishing handle of his broom. "I seem to be in a sticky situation."

He was already stalking toward them, his blade sinking into the back of one of Drake's attackers before the man had finished speaking. The mercenary made swift work of the bandits, leaving three men dead at his feet before long, reaching out to catch a swaying Drake, who had taken quite a beating in his brawl.

Slowly, Kratos lowered the man to the ground, probing a gash on his head with cool fingers, frowning sharply as Drake hissed in pain. Glancing over him, he could tell that the man was losing consciousness and that adrenaline had been all that was keeping him awake.

Chewing his lip, Kratos deliberated about what to do –

All his gels were in his pack inside the inn, he had not thought he would need them today when he went to meet Yuan, however, he did not really want to chance going inside in case there was an ambush. He had recourse, naturally, but it was dangerous to be seen using it …

Glancing about quickly, Kratos decided that it should be safe to do such a thing in this abandoned corridor of town, with everyone scrambling about for shelter.

Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath to center himself and allowed his outstretched palm to hover just over Drake's chest. In his arm he could feel the man's breathing becoming shallower as he slipped into the darkness of his own mind – Something Kratos barely noticed as he reached out with his tenuous "sixth sense" to address the man's wounds.

Around him, he pulled on the threads of nature, the threads of moisture, to allow him to knit wounds closed and sooth strained muscle. His own power directed it, dictated where attention was most needed, nudging Drake's own invisible threads of life into action to heal his ills.

Cracking open his eyes, Kratos looked down at the resting Drake to examine his own handy work. Of course, there was a scar, Kratos had never been the most skilled of healers, but there was no more blood and Drake did not look discomforted at all, even in his rest. It was a good sign, a sign that Kratos had done at least a little good for this one man.

Placing him down, he stood and turned about to find he was not as alone as he thought he had been.

It was the merchant from that morning, Troy Grant, the man whom Anna had sent him to look for, the man with whom she was likely in love. From the look on his face, Kratos was able to gauge just how much he had seen, and, gritting his teeth, was about to say something before the man dashed off, mimicking the creature whose expression he had worn just a moment earlier.

Cursing, Kratos looked back to Drake's unconscious form and sat on the steps of the Inn. There was nothing he could do – Nothing he could do to stop this Grant boy from going and informing someone of what he had just seen, and that was Kratos performing magic; magic, which was damning evidence of being a Half Elf.

Never mind what Kratos had been doing with his magic.

That was not important.

There was a noise and Kratos tensed, only to realize that it was Noishe, slinking out from behind the Inn and whining, padding over to Kratos to push his head into the mercenary's hand.

"I know this is a dangerous situation," Kratos muttered to his old friend. "But there is nothing I can do other than own up to it. I could try to pass myself off as a Human with some Elvin lineage, I suppose, but that seldom works as most towns and villages have rules that a person with even the slightest Elvin heritage should be considered a Half Elf."

Noishe growled and placed a massive paw on top of the man's head, causing Kratos to snort. "Sadly, yes. Half Elves do not have rights any more than they ever did, I'm afraid." He sighed as the beast dropped his paw back to the ground. "Pity, I was starting to like it here. I had hoped I could draw this out for awhile longer, but it seems that it was destined to come to an end."

He looked Noishe straight in the eye. "Do me a favor – They will jail me, so you must go find Yuan. He will know how to get me out without causing a scene, and will likely still be in town."

Noishe stood, wagging his tail, and licked Kratos on the cheek, earning himself a chuckle and a quick pet before turning and sprinting away, like the wind.

Kratos only waited a moment longer before Troy returned with the Mayor and several men who were likely deputy officials of some sort, responsible for running the small jailhouse next to the administrative building. He only glanced to them and then stood, wiping all traces of emotion from his face, though he was somewhat glad to see the Mayor looking hesitant.

Perhaps they had more sense than he'd hoped.

"Mister Grant informs me that you preformed magic to heal Mr. Irving here, is that right?" the Mayor looked up at him, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.

Kratos simply nodded.

"You see? I told you, he's a Half Elf! He could be working with the bandits, he -!"

The mayor held up a hand. "I highly doubt that since he's been so zealous about killing them, that being said, I do have to take your allegations against him seriously and hold you both for questioning until all this is dealt with …"

"Dad!"

Kratos' head snapped to the source of the voice and saw Anna barreling toward them. He noticed that Troy had done something similar and had just moved to stand between the two of them, as if he could physically shield her from his influence somehow. Her eyes, however, overlooked her lover to jump to him.

"Kratos, what happened, is Dad okay?"

He nodded. "Yes. He's fine. He had a run in with those men over there, but I made short work of them," he nodded to the corpses, which made Anna shudder a bit. "And then I tended to your father's wounds …"

"He's a Half Elf," Troy walked forward toward her, cutting Kratos off, much to his annoyance. He grasped her hands. "I saw him healing your father."

From behind her, Cody made a disgruntled noise, and he began to glare in Kratos' general direction. His look said he wasn't surprised, that he should have expected Kratos to be something as dastardly as a Half Elf.

Anna herself looked shocked, though she managed to catch and hold his eyes for a moment longer than anyone else did. She looked confused, as if she couldn't quite reconcile what she'd been told with what she was seeing before her.

He didn't have time for this.

"Enough of this nonsense," he turned back to the Mayor, away from Anna and her family; he found himself determined not to make a scene in front of her, to remain as normal as possible in her eyes, to somehow retain the heroic image she had of him. He was not sure why. "I do not have time to play these games. Mayor, I will agree to come with you if it will stop some sort of altercation from happening. Right now, all the manpower in your town belongs to placing things in order."

The Mayor nodded. "Thank you, Master Mercenary, now," he turned to Troy, "you come along, too. Miss Irving, Mister Irving, you should stay with your father."

It was only looking at her as he left that Kratos realized why it was he was so determined to assist her, and it brought a bitter smile to his face, even through the cautious and accusing glances that Troy was casting him. It was satisfying to know that he finally had a reason to want to help her.

She reminded him of his past, and he would do anything to preserve even one shred of what he had been, even if it lived on in a person who would live and die just as quickly as any other Human.


	6. Monsters and Men

The basement of the government building was not uncomfortable, as jailhouses came. It was not a dank basement, but relatively warm and dry, something upon which Kratos could speak with authority, as he'd seen many basement jailhouses in his time.

However, he would much prefer being trapped in a dank and dark cell to being in this particular cell with the sullen young man across from him. Well … Sullen was not exactly the correct word. Hateful, perhaps, was more apt; hatred born of the fact that this person was utterly convinced he was a Half Elf.

Kratos heaved a sigh and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the cool stone of the wall in attempt to counteract the heat emanating from the other's eyes. It was of little avail against the power of the other's incredible racial hatred, however.

Some things never changed.

"I can't believe you managed to fool her," the young man's voice was knife sharp, and Kratos found himself wishing the Mayor hadn't been quite so magnanimous in deciding to keep this boy in holding as well.

"Fool her?" Kratos snorted. "I have not lied. I am a mercenary, just as I have said, and as I am sure you well know."

He reached out to grab the hilt of his sword but scoffed when he realized it had been taken from him. Grumbling to himself, he rubbed his wrists instead, clenching and unclenching his fists as he attempted to ignore the constant stares of his cellmate.

"You're a heathen and a Half-Elf," the merchant asserted, his tone suggesting that he felt his logical was infallible, even though he was not thinking, simply feeling; prejudice did not often involve logic. "You've forsaken Martel by living through the blade and you're … You're a Desian."

"Boy, not all Half-Elves are Desians," Kratos lazily glanced toward the other, noticing how he averted his eyes and how pale his face grew when he did; at least the boy had the good sense to feel shame for his actions. "And according to what most believe, if I am a Half-Elf, I did not even have the favor of the Goddess to lose to begin with."

A silence fell between them and Kratos was glad, more than happy to rid himself of the other's accusations. Silence was golden, as they said.

"… I don't even know what she sees in you," Kratos felt the other's eyes upon him once more and turned his face toward him, finding his expression more confused than it had been before. "I don't understand how … I know you saved her. She told me." As if that explained everything – All of why Anna might trust him. "But why?"

"Perhaps you should divorce yourself from the idea that all Half Elves are inherently villains?" He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together in front of him. For a long moment he thought about it, contemplating the answer he should give – And this time, to make a point, he decided on the truthful one. "I saved Anna because I would be a monster to let her die when I had the power to save her."

Hearing the words come from his own mouth shocked him, and he quickly glanced away from his conversational partner, looking out into the darkness of the basement, where he could see barrels of wine and crates filled with other goods stacked, awaiting use in the government building above. He realized numbly that silence had fallen between them again, though this time of a stunned sort – Kratos was not, of course, a Half Elf, but if he could challenge this young man to actually think about others as people regardless of their origin, than he had done his job. Still, his own words hung heavily on his shoulders, an ever present weight reminding him of his own shortcomings.

"You're nothing like the rumors said," the tone was grudging, though that in and of itself did not surprise Kratos in the slightest. Everyone wanted their narrow world view affirmed, wanted every brigand who wielded a sword to be purely evil and every man of the cloth to be saintly and pure. "They called you a heathen and a murderer."

"One of them they have right to call me, the other …" he scoffed. "I am no murderer. A solider, perhaps, but I do not kill in cold blood. You were presumptuous, and I suggest next time you attempt to do your research instead of taking everything you hear at face value. Or perhaps you should show more trust in your lady love?"

"I …"

Kratos looked into his face and quickly cut him off. The young man looked terrible and guilt ridden, possibly because Kratos had brought up Anna; it seemed as though he really did love her. "Feeling bad won't change anything, boy. It's too late for me now – You've already accused me of being a Half Elf and I am suspicious enough on my own that anything I say will be disregarded in your favor. After all, mercenaries are considered scum even more so than merchants. I am sure to receive a harsh sentence and doubt that I will be able to take a job in this area again."

"… Mr. Aurion … I … I think I made a mistake," Kratos was somewhat astonished by how green his face looked, satisfied that, at least, this one was capable of realizing his mistakes. "I think … That I shouldn't have done what I did."

"Enough." Kratos' tone was terse. "I already said that feeling bad changes nothing, did I not? In reality, getting paid matters very little to me; I only charge such hefty fees because I am a professional who takes pride in my work, however, I do not particularly need the money. I only wish that this all could have had a more desirable end."

He would have liked to leave somewhere, just once, a hero instead of a monster, but it seemed he was destined to live on for eternity as a beast.

The merchant looked about to say something, but was silenced by the sound of footsteps echoing through the cellar as several people emerged into the jailhouse from the government building above. Eyes sliding over them, Kratos found that he recognized each and every face in that crowd, though the presence of Anna, looking pale and defiant, truly surprised him until he realized she was likely here for her lover.

"Sorry for that, boys," the Mayor, at their head, took a ring of keys off of his belt and unlocked the door, which swung open with an earsplitting creak. He turned to face Kratos and smiled thinly, something that really didn't surprise the mercenary; in his experience, there were only a limited number of reactions to finding out he had magic – cold civility was likely the least of these evils."Thought you'd want to know that we drove the last of the bandits off. That's thanks to you in no small part."

Kratos simply shrugged but did not stand, knowing that he would not be allowed to leave. Troy, however, seemed quite eager to leave, and stumbled to his feet. "Does this mean I can …?" He began in a stuttering voice, his hands clutched tightly at his sides.

"Sadly, not yet," the Mayor looked back toward Troy and smiled a smile several seasons warmer than the one he'd given Kratos. "Can you confirm what you said about Master Mercenary before?"

Nervously, his eyes darted toward the seated man, making Kratos smile sardonically. He decided to spare the other the shame of humiliating himself after glancing toward Anna, her brother Cody, and father, who all looked very grim. "I am what you would refer to as a sorcerer."

Like magnets, their eyes were drawn to him. "I am not a Half Elf, but I will be treated as one regardless of what I say, so I might as well claim to be one. I used magic, though only to heal the wound of Mr. Irving," he nodded toward Drake, who touched the scar on his forehead absently. "I am not sure how that constitutes as a crime, however."

"Thank you," muttered Drake, though Kratos did not respond, making a point of keeping his eyes from straying toward Anna; there must be some sort of disgust there, with the way Half Elves were treated.

All his efforts to not shatter her illusion of his character were for naught because of this.

"Are you sure, Master Mercenary?" Kratos looked up to the Mayor, who suddenly looked very grim. "If you claim to be a Half Elf, well … I'm sure you know the law can't protect you."

"I am well aware of the implications of my actions," Kratos closed his eyes and lowered his head in determined resignation. "There is no shame in it, for I promise you that no jail in the world can hold me if I do not want it to."

The Mayor frowned at the threat but excused Troy, who gratefully rushed from the cell, refusing to look back, Cody flanking him. Anna and her father, however, remained, much to Kratos' confusion. Would not Anna leave now that her lover was safe and sound?

"Well, now that that order of business is complete …" the Mayor turned to their last visitor, whom Kratos recognized as the head Pastor from the first Defense Committee meeting he'd attended. "I believe the floor is yours, Pastor Waters."

The somewhat portly man nodded grimly and turned his watery black eyes on Kratos, his kind face morphed into an expression of resolute disapproval. "Kratos Aurion, I have been commissioned by my order to detain you until such a time that you may be escorted to Palmacosta to stand trial for your crimes against the Goddess and her angels."

From the corner of his eye, Kratos could see that Anna looked as if Noishe had tackled her to the ground and knocked the air from her chest.

Standing, Kratos frowned sharply and started down at the little man, who shrunk in his lengthening shadow. "I would assume," he began, leveling his arms over his chest, "that this is about Asgard."

XxX

"That is precisely what this about, M-"Pastor Waters swallowed thickly and Anna couldn't say as she blamed him; the look in Kratos' eyes could freeze a man's blood in his veins. "Mercenary."

"That … Priest," he spat the word as if it were acidic and burned his tongue, "was abusing the young women of Asgard in the name of your Goddess and her Angels. I simply gave him what was coming to him."

As usual, Kratos was clinical, almost casual, about matters that would make most squeamish. She could see how cruelly the light in his eyes glinted, though glancing to her father he seemed to have no such reservations, respect burning in his eyes, his jaw clenching.

Anna couldn't take it so lightly, couldn't so easily accept it, because Kratos, regardless of what he said, was a frightening person with an archaic sense of right and wrong. People just didn't take revenge like that anymore, and if he'd found something out he should have gone to the proper authorities instead of taking matters into his own hands, but he was a mercenary, and Anna was staring to realize there was a very good reason for that.

Still – Did that really mean he deserved whatever punishment the Church was sure to give him when his intentions had been pure? Would any of the authorities have even listened to a mercenary?

"Those girls," Kratos continued, taking a half step forward that made poor PastorWaters freeze like a startled deer. "They were told lies and manipulated in the name of "personal Regeneration".'

Anna's eyes slipped to Pastor Waters again, who suddenly looked very angry, his face reddening, jowls trembling with suppressed rage. "H-how dare you!" He took a step forward, which would have been comical were Kratos not so physically imposing. In fact, he looked almost amused at the Pastor's threat. "Who are you to determine Her divine will? Do you think to be one of her Angels? The Judgment, perhaps?" His voice was high, strained with anger and fear, in part.

For some reason, Kratos looked amused at the rhetorical accusation, his eyes burning with amusement and icy wrath. "If your Goddess' idea of justice is the emotional and mental scarring of 12 young women, then perhaps I am The Judgment."

"You don't have the right to judge the Church of Martel as a heathen and a Half Elf!"

The room fell silent, Pastor Waters practically heaving with the exertion of screaming so loudly. Kratos, on the other hand, looked as motionless and distantly livid as any statue of an avenging angel she'd ever seen. She had the feeling he was taking this very personally, though she couldn't even begin to guess at the reasons, still …

"Tell me, Pastor, if you will not be policed by outsiders, who, then policies you? The Sleeping Goddess?" He paused and his lips pressed upward into a grimace that Anna thought was probably Kratos' version of a smile, though not a kind one. "Her Angel of Death? Pastor, if you intend to guide the lives of others, you must first free your own organization of any corruption."

"You don't have a right to –"

Kratos cut him off, the words ripping from his mouth unbidden, his voice little more than a warning growl, as if he were some unhinged animal. "Silence. I loathe hypocrites."

The words, coupled with the expression on his face, cut her. This was personal, and he was talking about himself just as much as he was talking to Pastor Waters in that moment.

Anna could only guess at what had happened to make him this way.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

The Pastor, apparently, decided that there was no reasoning with Kratos, for he clutched the rosary around his neck closely, muttered a prayer, and turned to the Mayor. "I must politely request that you hold this man until I may obtain the means to transport him to Palmacosta."

It was clear it wasn't a request.

"Now just one moment," Anna looked toward her father in surprise and found that, to her shame, she'd forgotten he was there during the confrontation. "Kratos is the only reason traffic has started to come back into Luin and that life is being breathed back into us after all this time. He saved my life and the lives of countless others!" As was typical, he drew his eyebrows together over his eyes, looking overly concerned. "That and it sounds like he had reasons for what he did at Asgard, can't we just –"

"Mr. Irving, I understand that your family has reason to like him," Pastor Waters cut him off, jowls flapping as his face reddened further. She didn't think he was angry at her father, just … Angry in general. Anna didn't really blame him for being upset, even if she did agree with her father. "Still, I must insist on his detainment! This man is a blasphemous monstrosity who spoke religious obscenities before the people of Asgard and threatened the life of a man of the cloth, all on a festival day!"

Her father glanced toward the Mayor pleadingly, but the man just shrugged, giving Anna the distinct impression that he didn't care just because he thought Kratos was a Half Elf.

That made Anna bristle, because even if it was true, Kratos had still saved everyone multiple times! He had saved her and her father! And she had seen it, seen that knightly virtue behind the black mercenary garb he wore to hide what she was sure was a noble heart!

Half Elf or not, it didn't matter because he wasn't a monster, even if he was dangerous.

There were worse things lurking in the dark than Kratos Aurion, Anna was sure of it.

"I can't do anything for him, Drake, you know that. Not now that he's claimed to be a Half Elf," Anna heard the Mayor say from somewhere, but she was ignoring him and walking forward, placing the tips of her fingers gently on Kratos' clenched bicep.

She watched as his eyes flickered toward her in shock and offered him a reassuring smile. Giving his arm one last squeeze, she turned away, leaving her father and Pastor Waters arguing in her wake, but she didn't care. Anna would save Kratos from this because, whether he deserved this or not, she still owed him, and even if he was dangerous he was still a good man who didn't deserve what the Church was sure to give him.

Now if only she had a plan …

A hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the shadows, nearly making her scream until another hand was clamped over her mouth and a smooth tenor was whispering in her ear. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Aurion's biggest fan."

She struggled, attempting to stomp on the feet of the man restraining her, but she received nothing but an amused chuckle in response as he restrained her further. "Calm down, Princess, we're on the same side. I'm an old friend of Kratos' who just found out from your charming little boyfriend that he got his ass thrown in jail."

Anna attempted to pull away again and this time he let her go so that she almost stumbled into the opposite wall. She managed to catch herself at the last moment and spun around, finding herself face to face with a cloaked stranger who was every bit as tall as Kratos was. From beneath his hood she could see him smirking at her, and she suddenly had the violent urge to wipe the smirk from his face.

"What do you mean?"

She could have screamed for help, probably should have, but his words stopped her.

"Isn't that obvious? Or are you really that stupid?" His voice almost rolled its eyes at her, making her bristle in rage. "Kratos sure knows how to pick his friends." He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want to help you break him out of jail. It would be very bad were he to be detained for much longer."

He lifted his head up and Anna could see that his eyes were piercing green. "But let's not discuss this here. Do you have a place we could go to where we wouldn't be interrupted by idiots?"

Anna stared at him for a long time before nodding, and leading him off toward the Inn, unsure why she felt compelled to trust him, but knowing that in order to save Kratos she must.

XxX

Kratos was not expecting a visitor that morning as he awaited Pastor Waters and an armed guard designed to escort him to Palmacosta, especially not Drake Irving, who'd left the night before in a hurry, looking furious with the Mayor for his inability to cooperate. Honestly, Kratos want not entirely sure what he had been expecting – The Mayor was a typical human, unlike the Irving Family, who apparently were completely nonplussed by the "fact" that he was a Half Elf.

That was endlessly amusing to him for various reasons, though he could not quite put any of them into words.

What a strange family.

As it was, Drake was handing him a mug of coffee and smiling at him in a reassuring way, a bag at his side, though Kratos was not sure what was in it and did not think to ask.

"So, son," Kratos raised his eyebrows at the endearment. "Tell me about Asgard."

Kratos simply nodded, figuring an exchange of information was the least that he could do, after all this man had done for him. "It is the reason I left the city," Kratos explained, inhaling the scent of the liquid in the mug. "That city is run by a highly religious mayor and he started an uproar over my actions, so I was forced to leave or be "brought to justice" by the Church." Kratos took a long drink and leaned back, picturing the city of wind in his mind, its ancient buildings and desolate side streets, the way the people dressed in layers against the wind … Funny, how different each and every city was.

"So you did something terrible during a festival?" Drake's voice caused Kratos to crack open an eye lazily. "Pastor Waters said something about … Threatening a Priest?"

"I trust you have heard of the Shrine Maiden Ritual?" Kratos ran his fingers over the surface of the mug, staring into the steaming beverage before him, looking at his own murky reflection. He didn't bother to see if Drake confirmed whether or not he had heard of it. "The Priest at the head of the chapel there was convincing the young women to disrobe in front of him and several other Church and city officials."

"A striptease?" Drake's eyes were wide as wheels on a dragon-cart. "That's … Really bad."

An understatement, Kratos noted as Drake seemed to search for his next words, standing and looking out of the cell, his eyes distant. At last, he turned back to Kratos, his face full of intense concentration. "On what grounds would the girls even believe that?"

"A fertility ritual," Kratos replied simply. "Never mind that such thinking violates the teachings of the Church, but that is what they were told. For the sake of the next harvest … He told them that it was demanded by the mandate of Cruxis."

"Really? And they … They believed him?" Drake ran his hand over his face, shaking his head slowly; he looked … tried, and Kratos realized that he must be imagining Anna in that situation.

"A young woman between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four is always chosen," Kratos stood up and walked to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And the Church is very prevalent in Asgard because of its current mayor. They were likely raised not to question it. He has been repeatedly reelected over the past several decades …"

"That's … That's terrible," Drake looked up into his eyes. "I mean truly awful. I can't believe anyone claiming to be a Priest would … I mean what drives someone to do something like that?"

Kratos was beginning to understand why Anna held such morals dear to her heart, if her father was any indication. Giving the man a long look, Kratos removed his hand and crossed his arms over his chest, going to sit back on the cot in the corner of the room. "Mr. Irving, not everyone is as principled as you are. There are those who use the Church as a means of seeking power over others, and I am afraid that man is one of those sorts."

He watched a pained expression play across the other's face before the man came to sit beside him. "So, how did someone like you get involved? I mean … Not to say that you're not a good person, but from what I know about you, you don't exactly seem like the sort to go looking for trouble."

Kratos snorted and smiled a thin, angry, smile. "You are correct there," he took a drink of his coffee. "I do not seek trouble, but it has a way of finding me. This time, it found me in the form of the elder sister of one of the younger girls being exploited. Her name was Maria and she pleaded with me to investigate."

"And you did?" Drake looked somewhat hopeful for him to say that he had; this time, what Kratos had to report would please the man.

"Yes. I did. It seemed to me a pretty serious accusation to make and far be it from me to ignore something like that, so without asking for payment of any sort other than room and board, I decided to investigate." In reality, Kratos did have some personal connections to the Church that factored into his decision, but that was not most pressing reason that he had decided to involve himself. "My investigation eventually led me to a certain Priest within the order whom I discovered was leading ceremonies during the Festival of Angels."

Drake suddenly burst out laughing, which made Kratos' smile morph from an angry one to a very dry, bitter one. It was good to see that the man saw so clearly where this was going.

"And so I confronted him in front of the masses," he explained simply. "He, of course, denied any and all involvement in such illicit activities and accused me of lying, so I simply … jostled him a bit. I ended up holding by his collar above the ground, though he was never in any real danger as I never intended to kill him." Though looking back on it, perhaps he should have, for all the good that he had done. "Sadly, I had to leave a few days later through … less than legal means. It seems I frequently end up thrown in jailhouses, I'm afraid."

Drake's hand fell upon his shoulder and he smiled, but said nothing, allowing Kratos to continue speaking. "Mr. Irving, I must be honest, you and your family are rather … eccentric."

"You're talking about the Half Elf thing, aren't you?" Drake took a drink of his own coffee and smiled. "Well, I'm not going to lie; I'm not really comfortable with it. I don't think anyone is, but … I taught my children to judge people by their actions, and I'll be damned if I don't set that example for them, so …" He shrugged and smiled. "You saved my life, and did a lot of good things, and no one would be questioning you if you were Human."

Kratos frowned softly, recognizing the rhetoric and logic from his days as a younger man, who made the admirable kinds of decision that he could only envy from afar now. He was not the kind of man who would have committed such heinous acts of vigilantism, but the kind of man who would have gone to the authorities and done the reasonable thing, and if that had not worked … Well, then he may have committed the acts of vigilantism, because younger him was … Much more idealistic and noble than he was now.

But those days had long passed.

"I suppose you are right," was all he said, leaning back against the cool cell wall and closing his eyes. "It has simply been some time since I have heard someone voice such an opinion. I find it refreshing."

A silence spanned between them, though it was not uncomfortable. It gave Kratos enough time to collect his thoughts and to drink his coffee, simply allowing the contents of their conversation to sink it. It was somewhat reassuring to know that there were still good people out there to counteract all the evil that he knew lurked within the hearts of all creatures.

"Listen, son, there's this man in town," Drake began after a moment, his voice dropping to a near whisper that caught Kratos' attention, though he did not sit up or open his eyes to look at his companion. "He does some shady business in the area, but he was at my inn when I returned from the jailhouse yesterday. According to him, you've gotten yourself into a spot of trouble with the Desians and it's pretty important that we get you out of here in case they hear that you're here."

Kratos raised his eyebrows but still did not open his eyes or turn toward Drake; he didn't voice it, but it was pretty obvious from the way the man was talking that he was referring to Yuan Ka-Fai. It figured that the man would have in hands in something illegal; even back then he had done some shady things, though it was not always to his detriment or the detriment of others.

"Well, he called you his friend, and hearing about your exploits in Asgard I'm not really surprised you know a person like him, but … He has a plan. Which is really why I'm here now."

At this, Kratos did sit up and look at him, a bit surprised that this man would really go through with helping him escape from jail. "And just how do you know such a man? You speak as if this is not the first time you have encountered him."

"It's … not," Drake's expression faltered and Kratos frowned. "Some years ago my wife was very sick and I found out about this man through an old friend of my father's who used to work as a trader back in the days when things were a bit more … hopeful. Before the last Chosen failed." He looked to Kratos with an oddly expectant expression on his face, and Kratos found himself nodding even as Drake continued. "I needed some medicine for her. She was … Pretty sick. But in the end she still died anyway, leaving me a widower, though I do think she was in less pain because of it her last few years. Anyway, that's my story."

And likely part of why he did not seem to hate Half Elves severely as others, if one really had tried to help him save his wife – Though Kratos wondered at Yuan's motives for such a venture.

"I see," was all Kratos said, allowing Drake to be awash in his own memories for a moment before he turned back to Kratos with a broad smile.

"Well, let's get to work, shall we?"

XxX

Anna shivered, though not from cold, walking down the street with Troy and the stranger, who had his hood drawn back to reveal the most brilliantly blue hair she'd ever seen. It was so blue that it almost hurt her eyes, and made his other features stand out, screaming that he be paid attention to. Not only that, but something about him made her wonder if this man, like Kratos, was also a Half Elf. There really wasn't much reason for her to doubt it, not with the way he spoke about things that happened so long ago even her father barely remembered them.

She remembered when she had pointed out how much his hair stood out and he had given her a positively blank look and told her that of course it was. The point was to be distracting – This time. And then he'd gone on to grumble about all the troubles Kratos put him through, and went over the plan one more time just so they didn't forget it.

He really was an obnoxious jerk, she thought with a frown, but at least his plan was foolproof, if a bit simple.

"I'm telling you that the amount by which you shortchange people should be illegal," the man with the blue hair complained loudly, completely contrasting the quiet but authoritative way he'd spoken the night before. "You only get away with it because no one has the power to force your lot into a guild."

She watched Troy's mouth twitch in self-restraint, clearly annoyed with the accusation despite the fact that he knew it wasn't sincere. Anna couldn't really say she blamed him because if she wasn't in on the plan, she wouldn't have known he was acting, though she guessed that was kind of the point.

"Excuse me?" Troy demanded. "We're the reason gels prices aren't through the roof! Do you really think that having a guild would bring prices down? I mean, sure there are some merchants who charge crazy prices, but-"

"Do you even realize how much it costs to produce a gel?" the man flipped his hair out of his eyes and slowed his brisk walk to a dramatic sashay as they neared the government building. "Do you realize how grossly you're overpricing, even you so called "fair" merchants?" His fingers moved up to make quotes in the air. "Of course you do. You just don't give a damn, because all merchants are scum."

"What?" The merchant spun around, stopping the stranger in his tracks. "Do you want to say that to my face? Do you even know how much it costs for me to keep selling gels at the prices I do? Seriously? How would I make a profit otherwise?"

"Well there is one good thing about you merchant types not having guilds," Anna watched his lips curl up into a thin smile.

"And what's that?" Troy snarled in response.

"The law can't protect you."

And then he laughed, a very real, very bitter, and very cruel sounding laugh. It chilled Anna how much this man seemed to be losing himself to his role.

It was only when Troy seized him by his collar that the laughter ceased, and the man's face morphed into one of a temporary and murderous rage that Anna sensed might actually be sincere. That expression was wiped away a moment later by a charming smile when the shadow of one of the government building's guards fell over them, however. "May I help you, sir?"

"Is there some kind of problem, gentleman?" the man asked, tapping his nightstick on his hand as if for emphasis.

The stranger just smiled more widely.

"Just a lively political debate, sir," and though Anna would have loved to stay and see the rest of the show, she realized that she had a job to do.

Slipping off while the guards were distracted, she entered the building unseen and met her father, who was carrying a bag and handed her a key. "Had to knock them all out, muffin." He reached out and ruffled her hair and she frowned at him, making a face.

"So he's ready? He knows what's going on?"

"Left the cell open, just like I said," her father nodded and smiled. "Told you I wouldn't let you do something illegal without me." He kissed her forehead and then turned to go, but paused. "Remember to lock the cell behind you, okay?"

Anna nodded, though didn't look to see if he was looking at her, and took off down the stairs, remembering the night before when she'd been ordered by the stranger to hastily pack all of Kratos' things on Noishe. He'd assured her that the beast would be able to find them, and Anna sure hoped he was right, because looking upon Kratos as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she wasn't sure she'd have recognized him herself.

Opening the cell door, she marched in and looked upon the person before who, who sat huddled in a ragged looking cloak, looking several feet shorter than he usually did and suddenly hunchbacked. "Um … Kratos? Are you ready?"

The figure slowly rose and Kratos' voice came from it. "Indeed I am."

Smiling, she extended her arm to him. "You make a surprisingly convincing little old lady. You and your blue haired friend are amazing actors."

"We've had some time to practice," Kratos admitted, taking her arm in one of his, his touch light. "Shall we?"

Anna nodded and led Kratos from the cell, releasing him for a moment to lock the door behind her and throw the key somewhere on the ground for the guards to find later. Drawing her own hood up over her head, the pair made it up the stairs and out into the street without drawing any negative attention.

They stuck to the back roads, which Anna knew well, having grown up in Luin, though Kratos had no problem following her - even at the pace they were moving. Apparently, all the exploring he'd done and all the walks they'd taken together had done him good.

She was glad to be saving him, glad that the stranger's plan was panning out, but she was sad to see Kratos go. She'd hoped she'd at least get to say a proper goodbye and send him with more than a few loaves of bread and some nuts that she'd packed onto Noishe when Cody wasn't looking (he said that the food was for guests and family only, and when Anna protested and said that Kratos was a guest, he'd said Kratos was a fugitive and that they shouldn't even be helping him in the first place).

It seemed it wasn't meant to be.

At last they reached the outskirts of Luin and traveled a ways further out of it into the fields, where a howl caused her to jolt away from Kratos and scramble backwards, falling into the dirt. Looking up, she found herself face to face with a wolfy grin.

"Noishe!" she growled, reaching out to swat him. "Bad, um, dog!"

He just barked, panted, spun around in circles, and sat in the dirt by Kratos' side, wagging his tail at her.

"Behave," Anna's eyes were automatically drawn back to Kratos, who was standing straight backed as ever, hood drawn back, his eyes raking over the beast accusatorily. "You know better than that. I thought she was your friend?"

Noishe just whined and Kratos sighed, turning his attention back toward her. "He apologizes, Irving. He shouldn't have done that and hopes you'll forgive him."

"Are you for real?" she asked him, raising her eyebrows and standing, dusting herself off. "I mean he's just –"

"Not just a dog," Kratos replied, paused, and then changed the subject. "Yuan should be here soon."

"Yuan … ? Is that the guy with the …" she motioned to her own head. "With the hair?"

Kratos tilted his head. "Yes, Irving, he is the man with the hair, just as I am the man with the hair, and your father and brother are also men with hair."

Her face turned red. "You know what I mean!" She snapped, watching a ghost of a smirk trace his lips before his face returned to the same bored expression he always wore.

"Indeed I do," humming softly, he ran his hands over his wrists and turned to Noishe, eyes scanning the packs. "Damnit. My sword."

Noishe's teeth grabbed his sleeve and the beast growled, making Kratos, who had been starting to walk back toward Luin, freeze in his tracks. Sighing heavily, the man pulled his arm away and ran his hand through his hair, pushing it temporarily out of his eyes. "Yes, I suppose you are right. It is not as if it is the sword, in any case."

She gave him a look and he caught her staring, for his eyes flickered across her before he faced her full on, frowning. Anna was almost certain he was going to scold her, but then his expression changed again and he took a step forward, the gravity of the air about them seemed to become much heavier.  
"I must request something of you," Kratos said and then paused for long enough that she wondered if he intended to continue.

"Yes?" Anna gently prompted, wondering at what could make someone like Kratos freeze like that.

With a sharp intake of breath he continued. "You are a very good person who has much potential to do great things. I believe that this world needs more people like you, and so I ask, for the sake of this world, that you do not die."

She wanted to laugh at the strangeness of his words – how often did someone tell you not to die? – But something about them struck her. They were special words, weren't they? A sign of his faith in her? And how could she, in good conscience, take them lightly with that in mind?

Anna nodded. "I have a family to take care of, so I don't really plan on dying any time soon."

His frown at that aught her off guard, and he looked about to say something, but they were interrupted by Troy shouting at them from across the field. The man next to him, Yuan, shot him a nasty look, but said nothing until they were standing close enough that Kratos and Anna could hear him.

"I see you made it out in one piece, Aurion," his eyes carefully swept over Kratos, as if making sure everything was in place. "Here," he shoved something into Kratos' hands, something long and brown. "I picked this up for you on my way out of the government building. Be grateful."

Kratos grasped the item and with a soft swish reveal it was a blade as he unsheathed it. Still, he did not thank his companion, only grunted in acknowledgement that he had been spoken to and narrowed his dark eyes, to which grin eyes turned into slits.

"I hope you're pleased with yourself," Yuan crossed his arms and lifted his nose, and Anna wondered if he was always like this around Kratos; he had been nothing like this when she'd taken him to the inn. "Thanks to the fact that you're a stubborn jackass, I won't be able to show my face here again for years."

Kratos' tone was drier than she'd ever heard it when she spoke again, and she glanced to Troy to see him looking pretty amused that Kratos was shutting Yuan down. "I imagine Luin will miss your legally questionable activities dearly, Ka-Fai."

"Says the mercenary."

Kratos simply snored at the man's rather lackluster comeback and then turned to Anna with a small mock bow. "I am afraid this is where we must part ways, Miss Irving. Give my regards to your father." When he straightened, his face became serious. "I am earnestly sorry to have troubled you and your family, and please, remember my request." Yuan rolled his eyes, as if he knew what Kratos was referring to, though there was no way he could have. "For yourself."

"I-" Anna swallowed. "I'll try, Aurion."

She glanced down as Troy took her hand and looked up into his eyes to find him smiling at her.

"Good," was all Kratos said, drawing Anna's eyes back to him just in time to see him turn around, his eyes lighting on Yuan. "Shall we travel together for a ways, then?"

"For old time's sake?" She heard Yuan say, feeling suddenly like she was eavesdropping despite the fact that they were mere feet away. Then Yuan turned to them one last time, as if struck by a sudden idea. "Oh yeah, I should probably warn you – If you value your lives, get out of Luin. I have it on good authority that the Desians are planning a raid within the next few weeks."

Anna was startled by the offer and could only stammer out that she and her family had to stay for the sake of the Inn. They couldn't just abandon it –

But halfway through her speech, he man held up his hand. "If you can't take my graciously given advice, it's your own damn fault if you get killed, now, if you excuse me." He turned back to Kratos. "Let's get going."

The mercenary simply nodded once and without a word or a glance backwards, strode off, with Yuan by his side. Noishe, looking between his master and Anna, wagged his tail once, ran back to her, licked her in the face, barked, and trotted off after Kratos. Then, he glanced over his shoulder and Anna could almost swear he winked, as if to say "we'll meet again"

Blinking, Anna dispelled the idea and laughed when she felt Troy wrap her in his arms. "Friendly guys." He buried his face in his hair and muttered to her, kissing her neck softly, "If I ever take myself that seriously, please smack around until it's beaten out of me."

She snored loudly and turned around in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him tenderly. "I doubt even you could ever be that, um, eccentric."

They shared a laugh and he pulled away, grinning and taking her hand to playfully tug her back to town.

For awhile her heart felt light, but when Anna turned her head to look back, she found that Kratos and Yuan had long vanished beyond her sight, and knew suddenly that fate was pushing her toward some dark fate she could no more understand than she could escape.

And she would walk toward it, one step at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that ends Part One of my Kranna epic. Here's hoping to a better future as things speed up a bit.


	7. Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. It took awhile for me to decide to keep posting this as is -- It took even more for me to decide to officially transfer to A03.

Darkness brought new life to the corridors of the Human Ranch, the prisoners of the lonely and sterile hallways finally daring to raise their voices above a whisper. It made the place seem less desolate somehow, when the Desians were gone to patrol the passageways beyond the cell blocks where they were all kept in close quarters. People had lives here, communities and families, sometimes gangs, and it was almost like a normal city with its own unique social order.

It was a city of the dead and damned.

Anna watched them from where she perched atop her cot, legs draw up to her chest, looking out on the people in the holding block. At her feet, Eren sat, his clear blue eyes scanning the face of every wraith of a man, woman, and child who wandered the corral in their dingy prison garb. He was probably thinking the same thing she was –

The ones who had been here the longest were the quietest, the most resolute and watchful, because to survive in a Ranch you couldn’t be defiant. You had to be severe, silent and sly, or your hope and will to live would be squeezed from you like water from cheesecloth.

It was the loudest ones, after all, that they tried to break the most.

“New arrivals,” Eren pointed out, stabbing a bony finger in the direction of the relatively clean looking people standing huddled in the corner. “You think someone should do something?”

She looked down to him, running a hand through her long, matted locks before making a face. “The smell might chase them away,” she said. “But I can try if you really want me to. Martel knows no one else is going to try to help them.”

That was because no one wanted to risk their own neck, she thought somewhat bitterly, standing up and squeezing Eren’s shoulder before walking over to the newcomers. She kept her back straight, ignoring the stares of some of the more … violent members of Cell Block 4-C. They weren’t so bad if you just pretended like they didn’t exist, but give them the time of day, and oh boy …

“Hey,” Anna attempted a reassuring smile, but was pretty certain she looked horrifying; being here had made her lean and scrawny, and her face was covered in thick grime, but they were scared, and their fear seemed to overcome their repulsion. “I’m Anna Irving. You’re looking a bit lost.”

She continued to smile as they exchanged wary glances, not really sure what they should say to her.

“Anyway, I’m sorry to bother you, but I wanted to extend an offer of camaraderie.  If you have any questions, find me and I’ll see what I can do to help. I’ve lived here two years after all,” which was a year and a half longer than most people made it.

Invitation extended, Anna turned around and left just as soon as she’d some.

She wasn’t really sure what had made her successful here, though that turn of phrase didn’t really fit Ranch Life very well at all. You couldn’t really flourish here; only survive by eking out an existence in the hierarchy of prisoners. If anything, Anna should probably be dead because her Exsphere was special and she was known to have Desian escorts through the hallways (affording her privileges because of it), but she was alive and … Well, not well, but she could be worse.

Sitting back down on the cot, Anna closed her eyes and forced herself to think about what might happen to those people in the next few weeks, of the horrors they would see that she’d grown used to in her time here.

And to think she used to believe true cruelty was uncommon.

“I was in the yard today on water duty,” Eren said to her suddenly, drawing Anna’s eyes and her attention. “You always hear the most interesting things on water duty.”

Anna nodded, feeling attentive; if the prisoners weren’t whispering about something, the guards always were.

“Kvar is losing control of the Ranch for awhile.”

“ _What?”_  Anna’s voice grew loud enough to draw the attention of several people close by, earning him their glares; of course she knew that if she were too loud she’d draw the attention of the Desians patrolling the hallways outside, but still …

“What?” she asked again, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper, watching Eren hesitate with everyone’s eyes still on them, eventually, though, people stopped paying attention.

“A High Lord is coming to the Ranch,” Eren took her hand, pulled her closer. “Someone from the people who run the Ranches. He’s apparently coming to check up on some special pet project of Kvar’s.” Anna’s heart leapt into her throat, realizing nearly immediately that he was referring to her – Her Exsphere was the only “pet project” Kvar had that she could think of at the moment.

“Well I hope whoever it is puts that bastard in his place,” Anna repressed a shiver as she pulled away, imagining Kvar’s cold, surgical fingers poking and prodding at the jewel embedded on the back of her hand. “Martel knows he’d deserve every ounce of it.”

“Just don’t get your hopes up too much. The leader of the cardinals visited that one time, remember? “

Anna did remember Arceus’ visit to the Asgard Human Ranch very well, but she hadn’t been particularly hopeful then just because of the tone that her handler had taken. He hadn’t seemed very excited that things would change at all, because apparently Kvar didn’t feel threatened by “such a feeble old man.”

He had been feeble, Anna recalled, the memory hazy though it had been less than a year before he had visited. That man had been old looking, and he was a Half Elf, almost like some kind of long necked bird, like the ones that were said to prey on the bodies of the fallen in the Triet Region. His jowls had sagged, his face had sagged, but he was deathly thin, with pale skin and paler eyes, nearly blind with age. He’d worn the thickest glasses she’d ever seen, but she was certain when he touched the back of her hand and prodded her Exsphere that he was just as dangerous as every other Desain she’d ever met.

“I don’t know, it’s just a different feeling,” Anna said at last. “The Desains have been acting weird lately. This  _has_  to be why.”

Suddenly, a grating echo filled the chamber as the doors to the hallway opened with a groan, the great, automatic door rising to reveal a small group of Desians, lead by Kvar, who bustled into the room with a Half Elf she recognized immediately as her handler in tow.

Immediately all chatter ceased and the Humans in their cell gazed upon their captors, eyes brimming with anger and hatred. Most looked surprised, a few looked absolutely terrified, and a handful looked annoyed – This wasn’t the time they’d usually come to the cell block.

It violated everything Anna had learned about Ranch Life under Kvar in the past years. He ran his Ranch like a well oiled machine, nothing out of place, the schedule never violated – He’d once told her that he gave the Humans this little “time to conspire” to give them hope and watch them break into delicious pieces, so to see the Master of the Asgard Ranch looking disheveled and unsettled was both satisfying and slightly disturbing.

After all, what could be so jarring that it could ruffle him?

“A012!” A voice barked, making Anna grow a bit pale; though as usual, she met the words with a resolute stare, rising from the cot to walk to the door to the cell.

In front of her, her handler fumbled with the keys, opening the door and reaching out to place shackles on her wrists. Furrowing her brow deeply, she stepped from the confines of the cell, taking one last glance at Eren behind her – He looked … Exhausted.

Quashing her guilt over the fact that he’d been taken trying to rescue Anna back then, she turned to face her captors. “What is it?” she asked, arranging her wrists comfortably in front of herself, her chin raised to address her handler, ignoring Kvar.

She saw his eyes dart to Kvar, who was already spinning around. “Well, we have a guest and on rather short notice, if I might add. Your immediate presence has been requested.”

Placing his hand in the small of her back, he proceeded to steer her from the room without another word.

XxX

His footsteps echoed down the hallway, dark eyes focused past the white, sterile shapes of the beings floating about him. They did not spare him a glance, but they had no directive to, not unless he was to approach them, and even then their responses would be automatic and lifeless. And in any case, they would likely only give him directions, something he did not need.

After all, Kratos Aurion had walked this passageway more times than he cared to admit.

Oh, it was a grandiose place, of course, but considering Yggdrasill’s taste in interior decorating, it was hardly a surprise. Vaulted ceilings, columns in the Tethe’allan style, effigies in the Sylvaranti, balanced with Elvin elegance. In short, it was far too much for his tastes, though he doubted it mattered since he gave the impression his lord wished it to.

Silently, the massive doors at the end of the hallway swung open with nary a hiss, granting Kratos access to the inner sanctum. He saw that his private audience with Yggdrasill was not so private after all, Grand Cardinal Arceus looking as decrepit as ever, his massive shoulder pads, bald head, scrawny body, and thick glasses making him look much like a chick pleading sustenance of its mother. The man’s presence really didn’t surprise him as the meeting was about him in the first place, Kratos supposed.

It was not as if he would be around much longer.

Allowing his eyes to strafe the room, Kratos’ gaze fell at first upon the Great Seed, its blue glow containing within it the flickering likeness of a woman who Kratos had once known to touch the lives of the people near her like a wind of good fortune. Now she was gone, leaving her survivors to grasp at the straws of hope and morality like blind men.

“Kratos,” a soft voice beckoned, and his eyes slid to a petite and elegant looking young man draped in holy white, his cherubic face full of warmth as he smiled. “Welcome home, old friend. I trust your business was fruitful?”

Kratos nodded, offering a stiff and cordial bow even as Yggdrasill glided toward him, wrapping him in a friendly embrace. “Yes. I have done as you wished, and I believe you will be most pleased with the results.”

The other pulled away and looked up at Kratos, his smile never faltering, his hands resting on the man’s shoulders. “What do you think? I’ve heard she’s quite ambitious, and that her ambition may be a danger to us.”

Kratos glanced to Arceus out of the corner of his eye, frowning slightly. It was well known to him that Arecus favored Kvar, who had once been a pupil of his. However, Kratos knew the Cardinals far better than Arceus did, despite the fact that Arecus was technically their direct superior. Kratos had far more contact with them than that old fool did, a fool blind to the true ambitions of his pupil who thirsted for power above all else. Even Kratos was aware that Kvar was power hungry and would throw a wrench in the workings of the organization – Ah, but perhaps Arceus had grown sentimental in his old age? Too sentimental to see he was being played for the fool by his own student.

And that was precisely why Kratos had been assigned the task of assessing who was most suited as his successor –

He was not so blinded by bias.

“From what I can tell she is a true zealot for your cause, milord,” Kratos began. “She truly believes in and endorses your ideals with her whole heart. As I am certain you know, a zealot is more easily controlled as they are not so blinded by their own passions. She would give everything to you, of this I am sure.”

Approval flashed over Yggdrasill’s face, but he didn’t respond, finally releasing Kratos, leaning back and humming in the back of his throat. He turned around to gaze upon the Lady of the Seed, indicating with a wave of his hand for Kratos to continue.

“She is also highly intelligent and dedicates herself to any task she sets herself to,” he continued. “Without assessing Kvar, I can say I am certainly impressed with her and feel she would be a good fit for the position. She even has a Lieutenant who would be able to easily replace her at her current station.”

“If I may be so bold,” the voice reminded Kratos of his boyhood schoolmaster, rough like uncut granite. “I believe his lordship is dismissing Kvar before he is even given a chance. That hardly seems fair.”

“I will go to the Asgard Ranch,” Kratos responded simply.

“Yes, Arceus, my dear old man,” Yggdrasill turned around once more and smiled upon both of them the smile of one who knows he holds absolute authority over a given situation. “You needn’t worry. I actually have something I want Kratos to check the status of anyway.” The empty green gaze flickered to Kratos, who stood at attention, left hand resting atop the pommel of his blade. “You are okay with this, aren’t you?”

“Naturally. Although I warn you, I may have to stand on pretense more strongly in this case,” Kratos frowned sharply, not overly fond of the idea of having to spend months on end wearing nothing but his nigh impossible to remove formals. “I must take every effort to appear an authority. You are aware that my race will be a handicap?”

“If they cannot respect that you are my voice, Kratos, I will deal with them personally.” The voice remained magnanimous and neutral, but those green eyes flashed with deadly rage for a moment.

Kratos was aware just how far Yggdrasill would go to protect what he saw as “his”, which included Kratos himself. It was why he was so careful to not overly involve Yggdrasill in his dealings. If he did not take such precautions, there would be a trail of corpses in his wake.

“Of course,” Kratos bowed his head and turned to Arceus. “I will give your pupil a fair chance, of this I assure you. I will not allow my personal feelings to get in the way of my job.”

For a moment the Half Elves’ dark eyes glittered with an unspeakable emotion before he spoke. “Naturally,” he replied at long last. “You are nothing if not a fair man, Lord Kratos. Everyone in this organization is more than aware of your knightly virtue. It is not a trait that could easily be forgotten.”

This time, Kratos detected no malice in those words, as he was sure had once existed. There was nothing but a resignation, as if the man was finally admitting some grave truth to himself. Perhaps this was what the elderly did? Make peace with their demons?

Kratos smiled a bitter smile.

Either Yggrasill made nothing of their exchange or pretended not to, for he simply continued on as if nothing had passed between them. “I have left a report in your quarters, Kratos. Please, take as much time as you need to prepare and take time to file an official report on Cardinal Pronyma.”

“As you wish,” Kratos offered another, stiff, bow. “I expect I will be gone by morning.”

“And I would expect nothing else of my most loyal companion,” Yggdrasill smiled a small and secret smile; one he saved for only Kratos, the one the man knew to be genuine. “You are dismissed.”

Without another word to either of them, Kratos spun on his heel and strode away, suddenly feeling every bit his age, as if the weight of the entire world was resting squarely upon his shoulders. Laughing bitterly, having no fear of anyone caring or reporting him (after all, the inhabitants of this place cared not for emotional displays and would ignore what they didn’t see as relevant), he realized this was likely true. All his years made him feel very tired, resentful of everything that he had ever allowed to happen in his time on this mortal plain.

Yes, in reality, it was he who was the self-loathing and wounded old man whose soul was in need of something cathartic. Arceus was so fortunate he would soon be liberated of this vast mess.

At last he came to his quarters, though it was far from a safe haven. It, too, lacked a personal touch, was just as grandiose and saintly as the rest of this damned complex. There was no bed, no kitchen, nothing to indicate this place belonged to anyone living – Save for the fact that a set of files rested neatly on a table near the room’s only furniture, a rather worn out looking chair.

Walking over to them, Kratos set himself to his task to distract himself from his current emotional dilemma; one speaking with Yggdrasill had only served to exacerbate.

**_The Angelus Project._ **

Kratos ran his fingers over the simple printed letters on the front of the file, opening it to reveal a slim packet of notes in handwriting Kratos recognized as Kvar’s regarding this “Angelus Project.” After skimming the notes only briefly, Kratos discovered that this project attempted to revive Hi-Exsphere technology, which quickly prompted a frown as he realized that Yggdrasill had personally made this request. The reasons why were not made clear, but as Kratos tracked the project through its first 11 host bodies, it was becoming more and more apparent that there were things going on behind the scenes of this operation of which he had no idea.

Perhaps it was simply for practical reasons, Kratos told himself, his eyes lighting on a name for more than a mere second, causing his brow to furrow. He skimmed over it, unable to figure out why it sounded familiar, when he froze and then frenetically sprung into action, flipping through pages until he found what he was looking for.

It was a lineup of the host bodies involved in this project, of those whose mana signatures were compatible with, and there, at the end, was that girl.

_Anna._

Rage filled him, and a sort of deep sadness.

The anger was due to the fact that this had happened to her, that she had lost her family, most likely. After all, the notes here said she had been picked up during a raid of Luin two years ago and it was unlikely many survived who had fought back. She was a good person and this … Should not have happened. She should have been able to run away and start a family with her merchant lover, to travel and see the world, not become host to a deadly crystalline parasite.

The sadness was due to the fact that he had failed her. The acting, the posturing, attempting to assure that he remained as normal as possible in her eyes had all been for naught because soon enough he would arrive in her life once more and shatter that dream.

Kvar had made a liar of him.

And as much as it pained him, Kratos realized that he really had proved her wrong about him –

Some things, no matter how much they seemed to mean at the time, really were simply a job after all.

XxX

Anna glanced to Adrus, who walked beside her, grey eyes filled with a deep sort of worry. She didn’t have any idea of the source, hadn’t really had the time to ask him, no chance to be alone with her handler and to interrogate him.

Because that was the thing about Adrus.

When push came to shove he would usually give her enough answers to keep her satisfied, and Anna could usually figure out the rest from the way other people in the Desian organization were acting. Like she used to think that they didn’t have a goal before she was taken, and some of the people in the Ranch still did, but Anna had realized that they were trying to make some kind of Half Elf Utopia by listening them to talk and that making Exspheres was part of some kind of elaborate revenge.

It was just the snippets of conversation she’d heard sitting in cold examination rooms with Adrus and Kvar, surrounded by their men, how they believed there was some better world out there for them in the future. Their resolute belief in their better future might have made her feel bad for them if she hadn’t seen most of them torture and abuse the prisoners here on a day to day basis.

At last, after what seemed like hours of marching, they came to a small room, where Kvar barked orders to his men to guard the door while he went ahead with their plan to bring the Lord here. Then, in a flurry, he was gone, flanked by a few of the men, Adrus escorting her into the small room.

It was much nicer than any of the other rooms she’d seen before, more a conference hall of some sort than a cellblock or examination chamber. There were padded chairs, even, though everything was still made of cold metal and shined with a harsh and unnatural gleam.

The door hissed closed behind them, leaving her and Adrus, finally, completely alone.

“So what’s going on?” she asked eagerly, spinning on him, the shackles still heavy on her wrists.

“We have a visitor. A very, very, high level official from C—“ He cut himself off and frowned sharply. “From our superiors up above.” He paused and chewed his lip. “I’m unsure what to tell you, though I want you to be prepared. If I give away too much, Kvar might catch wind of it, and that would not be good for either of us.”

“Well let’s start with why he’s visiting,” she said, prompting him to speak; she wasn’t really sure how much she could get away with this time since he really did seem worried, but it was worth a try.

“To check on the status of the Angelus Project.”

Right. Just like Eren had said.

“Okay so, it’s just a routine thing?” She asked, and Adrus gave her a look like she was crazy.

“Host Body,” he began, “listen – This is anything but routine. If it were, Lord Arceus would have come, but this man is not Lord Arceus. He far outranks them, outranks anyone who has ever step foot in this Ranch before, and he’s probably here to …” He lowered his voice and wrung his steady hands together, seeming to contemplate the wisdom of confiding this in her; Adrus may treat her well and disapprove of Kvar’s methods, but at the end of the day, he was still a Desian, no matter how nice he was.

She had to remember that.

“Arecus is very old and is probably going to retire. I think that Lord Aurion is here to assess whether or not Kvar is suitable to replace him.”

So that was it …! It made perfect sense, what, with Arceus practically being a living fossil, even by Half Elf standards. He was probably being forced by their superiors into retirement because he couldn’t do his job well anymore. Frowning, she wondered what kind of stone cold bastard the guy they sent must be to intimidate Kvar.

Though … That name …

Aurion.

Where had she heard it before?

“So, this man, he scares Kvar?” she asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs and grinning when she found that it spun around.

Adrus didn’t answer, so she figured she’d pushed him too far. Sighing, she spun around again but froze when she heard the door swish open – That had taken less time than she was really expecting; she was hoping she would have more time to question Adrus about this person to prepare herself before he walked into the room and –

“Kratos …?”

“Oh? You know the Host Body, Lord Aurion?” Anna recognized the voice of Kvar, but couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man in front of her.

Tall, red haired, dark eyed, handsome … It was Kratos for certain. He didn’t have a face anyone could forget, and right now he looked like he was contemplating eviscerating her.

“So this is the Angelus Project,” he said in a voice so cold it sent shivers down her spine; was he … ignoring her?

“Hm. I see you won’t answer me,” finally managed to tear her eyes away from Kratos, she looked to Kvar, who was staring at the taller man with a look of absolute contempt in his beady black eyes. “Rude, aren’t you?”

Kratos snorted. “You’d best watch your tongue, Lord Kvar. Or do you forget who I am? I would think you should have realized that my previous engagements are no concern of yours.”

“Lord Aurion –“ Kvar began, but was silenced when Kratos held up a single hand and kneeled before her, taking her shackled wrists and looking at the gem embedded on the back of her left hand.

Gently, he touched the gem, his fingers icy cold but somehow less surgical than what she had grown used to. She winced, then narrowed her eyes as she realized this really  _was_ Kratos, that all those years ago, she had risked her reputation to save a  ** _Desian_** , that she had, had –

“I see you kept your promise,” he muttered in a voice loud enough for only her to hear. “You are still alive, and after two years in this place as well. I am impressed.”

“Go to hell, bastard,” she hissed. “You  ** _lied_**  to me. To all of us! So just where the hell do you get off thinking you can just waltz in here and strike up a conversation with me as if nothing happened?”

He snorted again, a sound so familiar that it made her heart ache for the days when things were so simple, the days before all of this had happened, before –

“I am not a Desian, so erase that perception from your mind,” he told her simply. “You are correct that I lied to you, though –“ He paused and glared at Kvar, who was leaning closer to them, attempting to eavesdrop. The coldness in his eyes was so severe that the Grand Cardinal slid back swiftly, as if burned. “If I had my way, you would have never had to know that this is what I am.”

“Oh so that suddenly makes it  _right_?” She spat. “You didn’t want me to know, so that makes it okay that you’re a dirty, filthy, liar, who works for the Desians? I overlooked a lot of stuff for you! I defended you against all those people and believed you were a good person and you’re just —!”

“I told you that it was just a job,” his low voice dripped with an emotion that she could not identify. Anger? Bitterness? “I warned you that I was not who you thought I was and you refused to listen. And then I went along with your perception of me to spare you pain, because I genuinely had hoped that you could make a difference if you applied yourself. And I told you, I do not work for the Desians.”

“Then who do you work for?” she demanded.

“That is none of your concern.”

“That’s not good enough.”

He stood, apparently refusing to say any more on the subject, and turned to Kvar. “I want her moved to solitary. The Exsphere is highly sensitive and knowing the condition of your holding pens, it’s a miracle someone hasn’t tried to rip it from her in a fight. A massacre of that sort is out of the question, Kvar.”

“Where do you suggest I move her, Lord Aurion?” drawled Kvar, seemingly unconcerned with the order, though his eyes flashed in rage at being ordered about. “Those are the only holding pens we have available for the Inferior Beings at this Ranch. It’s not nearly as expansive and modern as the Iselia complexes, I’m afraid.”

“You have empty rooms on the second floor. Not only is that closer to the medical facilities, but it is also closer to where I am staying, and while I am here I would like to keep her under close watch,” his dark eyes flickered to her, and she growled at him, clenching her fists in rage.

Maybe if he had stayed he could have talked the Desians off! Maybe if he had stayed, her father would still be alive, would be breathing and well, and they would all be back in Luin instead of being here, wasting away into nothing!

But he apparently didn’t care after all.

Why would he?

He was just like the rest of them, and even the good ones, like Adrus, didn’t care enough to turn against their masters.

“As you wish, Lord Aurion,” Kvar bowed with an almost scornful amount of cordiality. “It will be done.”

“In the meantime …” Kratos trailed off,” I am going to my chambers. It has been a long day.”

And with that he strode from the room, his receding footsteps cracking open her precariously patched heart.

Kratos the traitor.

That’s what he was.

And she’d been a fool to ever think otherwise.

XxX

The books slammed against the wall as he swept them from their shelf in rage, falling against the carpet with a numb “thud”. It wasn’t nearly as dramatic as he’d hoped, did not truly fit his mood, but as he did not particularly feel like paying reparations for the glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling, they would have to do, as unsatisfactory as they were.

Foolish woman! Stupid woman!

He picked one of the books up, prepared to tear its binding in half, put paused and stared at the pictures on the cover. A green haired woman with green wings, and a young blonde man flanked by the vague shapes of blue and red haired angels stared back up at him.

 _A children’s book,_ he snorted,  _as out of place here as that woman is._

Gently, he set the book down on the coffee table as he sank into the depths of the couch that faced the elegant mural wall, painted with the faces of angels and the Goddess, fantastically rendered. Kratos sighed, remembering that, in his youth, Arecus had loved to paint and sketch, those nearly 800 years ago.  Yes, these rooms belonged to him, simple, but refined. Outside of the gaudy chandelier and mural, Kratos found they had similar tastes.

It was too bad they hadn’t met under different circumstances, Kratos thought, they might have been able to get along.

But then again, perhaps not.

Kratos had a way of outliving nearly everyone he met, and so forming lasting friendships had become impossible, which is why he had been stupid to let the Human woman get to him in such a way. He was a fool to have let himself become fond of the idea of someone so normal and vibrant out there living their life doing good things for others.

Life had a way, after all, of taunting him with good things and then taking them away from him at the last moment.

There was a beeping noise from the pouch he’d cast haphazardly to the floor when he arrived, a noise that he wanted nothing more than to ignore, however, he could not really risk the chance if it was Yggdrasill. Standing, he walked over and retrieved the pouch, fishing inside of it until he grasped something cold and round in his hand. He continued letting it ring until he reached the couch once more, getting some satisfaction from making whoever was on the other end wait for him, for once.

Pressing the button, he finally opened the comlink, a holographic image of the bust of a certain, blue haired, nuisance staring back at him with an irritated expression on his face. That expression quickly morphed into a smug one, and the man crossed his arms over his chest, “Someone looks like he swallowed a bug.”

Kratos just scoffed. “What do you want, Yuan?”

“Is it so wrong just to want to talk to my old friend?” The tone was innocent, something Yuan had never been.

“You never want to speak without a reason anymore, Yuan. So cut the nonsense. I’m too tired to properly deal with it right now,” he leaned back and closed his eyes, though not before seeing the barest hint of shock flicker across the other’s face.

“Fine. Yggdrasill asked me to “check” on you. He said you seemed strained just before you left for the Ranch this morning.” Kratos doubted that was all, but he was willing to accept that as the only reason for now; whatever Yuan’s ulterior motives were, they were none of Kratos’ business. “Having read the files on the Angelus Project, I thought it was probably related to that damn girl.”

“Are you going to scold me about getting attached to her?” Kratos asked, imagining Yggdrasill’s action if he found out about what had transpired. They were not pleasant. “If so, save it. I am already feeling the consequences keenly.”

“On the contrary, I think it might do you some good to remember that you’re not like the rest of us every once in awhile.” It was such a candid statement that Kratos found himself opening his eyes to gape at Yuan, whose face looked almost sad, until he noticed Kratos was looking at him. “I called to ask what you wanted me to tell Yggdrasill.”

“Tell him that I think Kvar is an insufferable toad,” Kratos growled. “It is not too far from the truth as he is at least half the reason today was such a terrible day.”

Yuan made a face that was a cross between disgust and sympathy. “At least you’re not stuck dealing with a group of idiots like the Church in Tethe’alla. I swear to Mana, I hate the aristocracy there. Though I do understand …” Yuan trailed off. “From what I’ve read of Kvar, he’s the nastiest of them all.”

“Rodyle is not exactly a pleasant fellow, either,” Kratos growled. “I wish Arecus had selected better men to serve as his seconds. They have too much free reign, though Magnius and Pronyma are not so bad. They, at least, follow the orders they are given.”

“Yggdrasill should let us select them,” Yuan said simply. “We’re the ones who end up working with them anyway.”

“Indeed,” was all Kratos said in reply, sill puzzling over Yuan’s statement earlier. “What do you mean I am not like the rest of you?”

“Oh, I’ll just let you riddle that out all on your own,” Kratos glared at the hologram, who smiled smugly back. “You’re a smart man. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

He frowned, but relented, knowing that Yuan would never give him the information he sought. Kratos would just have to be content with thinking about it on his own, which was not a bad thing, he supposed, since it would stop his mind from wandering to other subjects that he, frankly, wanted nothing to do with at the current time.

“Is that all you wanted, Yuan?” he asked after a moment.

“Yes,” there was a pregnant pause. “Kratos, no matter what you do, be careful. There are things going on here that you have no idea about.”

He cut the line before Kratos could comment on the cryptic message.

Standing, Kratos dropped the communicator on the coffee table and glanced tiredly to the pile of books in the corner. He would probably regret leaving them there in the morning, but right now he simply wanted the solitude of a dark room, and this apartment, at least, would have a bed he could make use of.

In his heart of hearts, Kratos knew there would be no sleep for him this night, or for many long nights after. There were too many questions that had been raised and far too few answers for his liking, and Kratos swore he would get those answers, no matter what it cost him.

Many years later, he would both cherish and regret that decision, but for now, he simply sought the numb blackness of a chamber devoid demanding superiors, slimy henchman, estranged and cryptic friends, and the wounded green eyes of that woman, eyes that would haunt him now and long into the distant future. 


	8. Good and Evil

“You requested my presence, milord?”

Kratos glanced over the top of the glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose, placing the papers he had been leafing through down on the desk and giving his attention to the man before him. He was likely in his mid hundreds, if the way his face looked was any indication, dark blue hair graying slightly, his face lined with the beginnings of age. His eyes, though, were kind enough looking, if somewhat guarded, and Kratos found himself wondering how such a man had come to be the Lieutenant of someone like Kvar.

It may have been an intentional move on Kvar’s part to get his men to respect his decisions more. Certainly, if he were smart, he would have done such a thing.

“Sit down, Lieutenant Adrus,” Kratos motioned to the chair across from him, watching as the man silently slid into it, placing his hands on his lap and sitting rigidly at attention.

A military man to the last, it seemed – Certainly, Kratos could respect that. He was a career solider himself, and had been for a good many years now. “I am certain it is not secret why I summoned you,” Kratos began. “I wish to know about the Angelus Project.”

“Haven’t you read the reports, sir?” the man’s brow furrowed and Kratos sighed heavily, running his hand over his face in exasperation.

“Not the rock,” Kratos replied shortly, “the woman.”

Lieutenant Adrus blinked, clearly surprised by the line of questioning his superior had decided upon. Kratos could not honestly say that he blamed him, to be frank. It probably seemed odd that he was checking up on the personality and wellbeing of the Host Body rather than the Exsphere to someone who worked under Kvar, however, Kratos had come to a conclusion overnight that seemed to solve both his problems in one fell swoop.

“A012,” Lieutenant Adrus said simply. “She’s really … something else. I’ve been here for many years and saw four others involved in the project lose their hope, their minds, their morality … This one is different. I’m not really sure what it is, but no matter what Kvar tries, he can’t break her.” He seemed to hesitate, but clearly decided that honesty was the best policy. “He’s harder on her than he is on even the normal prisoners, Lord Aurion. He says it’s to stimulate despair. I was selected to watch over her in that interest.”

Discovering the extent of Kvar’s ruthlessness and ambitions through researching the Angelus Project was the first phase of Kratos’ plan, and so far, it seemed to be going quite smoothly.

“Oh? Do they violate the typical levels of agony that a Host Body is allowed to endure before it becomes counterproductive and an Exsphere begins to consume them utterly?” He took his glasses off and tapped one of the arm against the front of his teeth in thought. “She is rather … Gaunt.”

The Lieutenant gave him a sharp look that he quickly quashed, favoring something more obedient, though Kratos did not blame him. Kratos agreed, if anything, having seen Anna before, a young maiden with the form and radiance befitting of her age. Now she was not much more than a skeletal frame wearing a burlap dress, her head looking too large and heavy for her fragile body.

“He starves her,” the Lieutenant admitted bitterly. “There’s nothing I can do to alleviate the situation, but I watched the last Host Body die in this manner. You would think he’d be more mindful considering how rare it is to find someone whose Mana Signature is compatible with the Exsphere, but he’s … not.”

“So then he is guilty of wasting Lord Yggdrasill’s resources,” Kratos noted out loud. “That, certainly, is something to keep in mind. In the mean time, I will take over her care. I am here, after all, to establish the standard of her treatment. From now on, you will defer to me and only me in all matters regarding the Host Body A012.”

It would infuriate Kvar, but placing him under mental duress would be an excellent way for Kratos to observe him working under the sort of pressure which Yggdrasill would undoubtedly place him under. And in any case, he wanted to further observe Anna … If only for the sake of filing a complete report, though if he were being honest, he had to admit that most of it was due to his own intermingled guilt and curiosity.

“Of course, milord,” Adrus bowed stiffly, bowing his head. “As you wish.”

Kratos leaned back further and closed his eyes, lacing his fingers in front of him as he cleared his mind, attempting to figure out a way to phrase his next line of inquiry without appearing suspicious. The Lieutenant would expect him to know everything regarding the Angelus Project that was not already in the file.

“Have you been made aware of the reasons for the project?” Kratos asked, leaning forward only slightly, setting his gaze intently on the other.

He was no stranger to the effect he could have on people, and watched as the Lieutenant fidgeted under the power of his stare, glancing away quickly before clearing his throat uncomfortably. “No, milord, should I?”

“No,” Kratos did not elaborate, and stood up, setting down his glasses on the desk top. “You will keep tabs on the Host Body for me, Lieutenant Adrus. Do not forget that you work for me now, for while I am here, I run this Ranch.” He turned around and crossed his arms behind his back. “You are dismissed.”

Though the Lieutenant’s eyes lingered upon him for a moment, Kratos soon heard his footsteps recede, leaving him with the silence of his own thoughts. Picking up the file again, he briefly contemplated calling Yuan over the comlink and asking straight out what his words the other night had meant, however, that line was not the most secure and he could not risk discussing such sensitive information over it.

The second phase of Kratos’ plan was to discover the true purpose of the Angelus Project and that did not seem to be going so smoothly.

For a minute, Kratos sat in silence, reflecting upon what his next move should be. There were a few things he could easily do, though in the end he decided to explore the Ranch on his own, without the grating commentary of an escort. Pressing a button on the intercom, Kratos sent a message to the control room to let the men there know that he would be showing up on their cameras very soon, and that if anyone had need to contact him, they should send someone to find him.

Standing, Yuan’s promise of conspiracy still ringing in his ears, Kratos stood and headed out the doorway and down the hall, unable to shake the feeling that whatever he was about to discover was far bigger than what he could handle on his own.

 

XxX

 

Anna pulled her legs to her chest, staring at the wall opposite her. It was lonely here, and quiet without the bustle of her fellow prisoners. Not that it would be very safe for her in holding anymore, with the way everyone had treated her in the yard that morning during their exercises. Word had gotten around quickly of her “special treatment”, that she had been granted use of the showers and given her own room with a _real_ bed.

To be honest, Anna hated it. Hated it because it had elevated her to a status that alienated her from the people she had to protect, like Eren, who had been growing weaker and weaker lately. It made her feel sick, even if she was cleaner than she had been in years, and had a small, if lumpy, bed to sleep on. She wanted to be with the people she cared about, not here, not all alone.

She wasn’t even really sure _why_ it was happening, only that it had to do with Kratos, and that she’d received word that he was supposed to be coming to see her later today.

Suddenly, the door slid open with a hiss of air, making Anna jump. She almost thought that was Kratos, at first, but she relaxed a bit when she saw Adrus standing in the doorway. “A012,” he said, slipping into the room, the door swooshing shut behind him. “I have something very important to ask you.”

Anna blinked up at him, then nodded stiffly; not that it was in her power to refuse him, really.

“You’ve met Lord Aurion before, haven’t you?” His frown was sharp and very intense, but unreadable; Anna couldn’t tell why he was upset, only that he was, and it unsettled her.

Usually Adrus was so calm.

When his staring became too intense for her to handle, Anna took a deep, shaky, breath, and nodded only once. “He saved my life once, before I came here. He … rescued me from bandits,” she explained, the image of the knight she’d seen then flashing through her mind.

Anna quickly tried to dispel the image of Kratos the knight from her mind, reminding herself that that man was really some kind of Desian High Lord, and not at all the person she’d thought he was. It still left a bitter taste in her mouth that he had lied to her, and made everything he had ever done seem somehow less important, since he was responsible for holding her here now.

“Lord Aurion rescued you,” it wasn’t a question, but it was almost phrased as one, each syllable dripping with disbelief. “He rescued you from bandits. But why?”

At one time Anna would have answered that with a resounding “because he’s a good person”, but those days were long passed, so long gone that it made her heart hurt with a keen pain. Still, she couldn’t let it get to her. She was here now and had to keep her head in the present – People who thought too much about the past here ended up dead, either by the hands of the Desians or by the hands of the other prisoners.

“I don’t know. He just did, I guess,” was what Anna settled for, playing with the frayed and dead ends of her long, dark, hair, much of which had started to fall out. “I haven’t been able to figure that out since I saw him turn up here. I never knew he was a Desian.”

Adrus gave her a long look. “He’s … Not one of us,” said her handler at last, stroking his chin thoughtfully, eyes almost seeming to look through her. “Lord Aurion outranks even Arecus. He’s … He’s _the_ most important person who has ever visited this Ranch. If he wanted to, he could kill Kvar and not receive punishment for it.”

Her eyes widened and she tried to stop her jaw from hanging open. She imagined all the times they’d sat together on the bank of Lake Sinoa, staring out at the waterfowl, and realized that all that time she’d been eating lunch with a powerful Desian High Lord. It would have been terribly funny if Anna hadn’t had to watch her father be killed in front of her because of it.

Visions of that day flashed in her mind, her brothers shouting at her to run, her father turning around to warn her of the approaching danger as a sword suddenly slid through his stomach. She’d ran, then, despite being frozen in place, ran to Grace’s house where she’d helped her friend hide in the cellar of her house before leaving to go find Eren for her best friend …

And that’s when she’d been taken, dragged off by the hair, kicking and screaming.

The hairs on Anna’s arms stood on end.

“He’s not the sort of man you should cross, A012,” Anna looked up into Adrus’ stern eyes, finding a look of genuine concern on his face; it almost touched her. “Kratos Aurion is dangerous. We have stories about him among our ranks, and what goes on here is nothing compared to what they say he’s seen and done.”

Remembering some of the more chilling things he’d said, Anna could see why he’d think that, still … Something told Anna that even if he was dangerous to everyone else, he was no danger to her.

“I’ll keep it mind,” was all she said, leaning back on her bed as if to feign sleep, really, she just wanted to be alone; she didn’t want to be bothered with thinking about Kratos any longer, because he didn’t deserve her thoughts.

Without another word, Adrus left her, and Anna curled up on her side, recalling how quickly she’d learned to hold her tongue once she came here. Anna remembered learning quickly that broken bones meant death, so she’d always been careful, remembered to keep her mouth shut and her head down, but the longer she spent her, the more she hated being that way. She wanted to be reckless again. She wanted to protect the mothers and children in the Ranch who suffered because of the people here who thought surviving meant selling their souls in the process.

Tears stung her eyes as she remembered her childhood home, how many of the people here she’d known from little on who she’d slowly watched turn into monsters. These weren’t bandits or rapists, they were florists and bakers, kids she’d played hopscotch and tag with when she was little, and it hurt her to think that they couldn’t hold onto to what made them better than ogres like Kvar. A demon whose idea of “making an example of someone” was removing the Exsphere off the back of a child’s hand and forcing her father to kill her when she mutated into a grotesque monster, all because the man had stopped to help a fallen old woman from the ground.

Curling up into a tight ball, Anna stared at the wall and willed sleep to come so that the gem on her hand would stop throbbing and she could dream that she was back in Luin again, younger and normal and happy.

But sleep, like peace, never came.

 

XxX

 

His footsteps echoed emptily against the metal flooring as he traveled the corridors alone. As a general rule he was given a wide berth by the Desians, which was perfectly fine with him. Right now, Kratos wanted to work through his thoughts the way he had once done so – By taking a long and aimless walk.

Kratos had not managed to discover much about this place, about the Exspehre production that was going on here, which he found extremely suspicious in the first place and had not known about until he had arrived the day before.

It reminded him of the war, this place, these Exspheres, and he hated it.

He wondered what could possess Yggdrasill to do such a thing.

His interest in the Angelus Project had been keen when Kratos had spoken to him mid afternoon during his call. He had truly been interested in whether or not the production of a Hi-Exsphere seemed possible, and though Kratos had told him that there did not seem to be anything remarkable about the stone, his Lord seemed convinced otherwise. There had to be a method, there needed to be, and though Kratos had originally suspected that his need for Hi-Exspheres had to do with creating the vessel, the more he thought about it, the less that seemed the case.

If it were that simple, why the need for such zeal?

He had a sinking feeling, a feeling that could only be remedied by finding a secure line to Yuan and speaking to him, though Kratos hesitated once again. There was the feeling that, if he did this, he would pass the point of no return - That things could never return to the way they were now. Kratos did not want to lose the status quo, did not want to shatter the one thing in his life he felt certain of anymore because he was sticking his nose in places it did not belong.

But if Yggdrasill wasn’t telling _him_ , then perhaps it was worth knowing. Could he really allow the man to further destroy himself for something that Kratos may have the power to stop? Could he justify any further sacrifice?

No.

This time, Kratos would do something.

This time, he would stop the madness before it went any further.

He swore it.

“Going for a walk, are you?” Kratos turned around to find Kvar emerging from a room, looking at him with something like pure scorn in his eyes. “Haven’t you done enough gallivanting about for one day?”

Kratos was tempted ask him if he was stupid, but decided to play the game at a higher level. There was no need to sink so low. “I am contemplating the consequences of my actions, something I am certain you would benefit from.”

He felt satisfaction as he watched the man blanch. “I see you are speechless,” he continued. “If that’s the case, I will take my leave of you. I have more important things to do than entertain your notion that you can intimidate or insult me.” That, and Kvar was unwise to push him when he knew full well why Kratos was _truly_ here. Attempting to coerce Kratos into giving him the position would not work.

Pushing past him, Kratos decided to finally take matters into his own hands, and made his way to a minor control room, the door shutting behind him. Going to the keypad, he locked the door and sat down at the terminal, typing until he managed to pull up a secure line, though not without work. Leaning back, he pressed a button and allowed it to connect him to Yuan, whose holographic body quickly appeared before him.

“Well this is unexpected,” Yuan drawled. “Who’s bothering who now, Aurion?”

“I will cut to the chase Yuan,” Kratos began. “I made sure this line is secure, so I want you to tell me what he’s planning.”

The other made a humming noise and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, that depends on what you’re talking about. There are half a dozen “hes” you could be talking about, Kratos. You can’t just make vague demands and expect –“

“Yuan, I do not want to play games,” Kratos cut him off, holding up a hand, watching the man bite his bottom lip before sighing deeply and trailing his fingers through his long hair, messing it up slightly.

“If I tell you, you must swear not to repeat where you heard it from,” Yuan said severely, his eyes flashing, something impossible to miss even over the comlink.  “Swear it on your honor, Kratos.”

Kratos labored a sigh but nodded solemnly. “I swear it. If you tell me, he will never know it came from you.”

Yuan looked at him for a very long time, his face becoming sad and somewhat distance, letting Kratos know exactly what, or rather _who_ , he happened to be thinking of. “She said she wanted a world free from discrimination. This …” Yuan motioned about himself, as if indicting everything. “What he’s doing, is the result of that.”

Kratos patiently stared at Yuan, waiting for the other to continue.

“He wants to turn everyone into the same race, Kratos. He wants to use the Exspheres to make everyone the same as we are.”

Kratos clenched his fists so tightly that he could hear the leather of his gloves creaking in the sudden, deathly, silence that had fallen between them.

“How long?”

His voice was terse, as if it were a string pulled so tightly it were about to snap.

“Long enough,” was Yuan’s reply, which was vague enough that Kratos understood that he’d been allowing this to happen for untold years without noticing.

“This is too many people, Yuan,” Kratos growled at last. “It was never supposed to be this many people!”

“I know,” Yuan replied coolly, hiding whatever he was thinking behind that damnably calm façade of his.

At one time, that façade wouldn’t have existed, but times had changed, things had spiraled far beyond his control, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Right underneath my nose. All this time. He’s sent so many to their deaths already, and now _this_?” Kratos clenched his hands so tightly they would have bruises later on, but he did not feel the pain; at least, not physically. “Yuan, I cannot – I cannot continue to associate with him. These are – _were_ – my people. I cannot condone this. Perhaps if I leave, he will come to his senses.”

Surprise and then scorn flickered across Yuan’s features. “So what are you going to do? Just vanish? He can find you, Kratos. He has eyes nearly everywhere. And you know how important of a tool you are to him. Do you think he’ll let you go so easily?”

“I plan to tell him why I am leaving,” Kratos replied with a snarl, his face taking on an animalistic appearance in the glow of the computer screen and Yuan’s hologram. “In a week’s time when I return. Do you think he can hold me, Yuan? Do you forget who I am?”

The expression the other gave him was long and odd, as if he hadn’t been expecting this outcome. Had Yuan really expected him to be okay with this? With the sacrifice of hundreds, thousands, of people for the sake of an impossible dream? A dream that defiled the wishes of the person whose memory they should be cherishing, not dragging through the mud, as they had spent long enough doing?

Even Kratos Aurion, notoriously patient and loyal, had his breaking point.

“You really mean to do this, don’t you?” Yuan’s voice was small, slightly breathless; as if he were afraid asking would make Kratos change his mind.

“Yes,” Kratos said. “I am going to leave. I will not watch this happen.”

Yuan gave him another long look. “I didn’t know you had it in you.” There was a crashing noise from behind him somewhere. “Ah, shit. I have to go.” And then quickly, he cut the line of communication, leaving Kratos staring at a glowing monitor in the darkness.

Steeling himself, new intent in his heart, Kratos turned around to go make his final appointment of the day, satisfied that he would be able to live as a mercenary once more.

 

XxX

 

He had brought a chair and was sitting in it, her file in his hand, one long leg crossed over the other. It was just him this time, no Adrus, no Kvar, no escort. She was alone in the room with him, a room with one camera but no voice records, as she’d discovered while snooping around earlier.

“What are you supposed to be doing, anyway?” she asked him as he poured over the files, deciding that there was no use in acting angry with him because he didn’t seem to care. “You haven’t said anything in the last fifteen minutes, all you’ve done is stare at me and flip through the file.”

“I am trying to decide what to do about Kvar,” Kratos replied simply. “From what I have observed, he is a poor leader. His men do not respect him, and he treats his prisoners even more cruelly than usual.”

Anna raised her eyebrows at that. “So you really are here to spy on him?” She crossed her arms over her chest firmly. “Then why don’t you leave me the hell alone? I don’t want to look at you.”

He snorted and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a long moment as if lost in thought. Then, he turned to her, his dark eyes settling on her, reminding her of their discussions on the banks long ago. She realized he was going to ask her something serious and her spine straightened in anticipation as she met his gaze unflinchingly.

“What makes you different?”

Her brow furrowed at the question and she frowned sharply. “Excuse me?”

“The other subjects,” Kratos tapped the folder with his index finger. “I have read the file again and again. They all gave in to their testing, to the stress put on them, to their despair … But you? You have done so such thing.”

She blinked at him and shrugged, not really sure what he was getting at. Not completely, anyway. Of course she had survived this long, but she had to. She had to get out and make a difference in the world somehow. Dying meant she had given up.

“I can’t die,” she told him as much, glancing away from his intense eyes and staring at the wall. “If I die, I’ll never see the end of this place. I’ll never see the sky again and find what’s … What’s left of my family.”

_If I die I’ll never find Troy to tell him that I should have said yes to his proposals._

She still had so many regrets, things she hadn’t realized until …

Until she’d lost it all.

“But why,” it wasn’t a question, but a statement. He drummed his fingers against the cover of the folder, the sound echoing about her. “Why? What is it about you that makes you different? Even then … Those two years ago, you were unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” she could feel his frown, radiating his confusion and frustration. “I want to know why.”

Anna’s eyes were drawn to him again, and she blinked at him long and hard. Drawing her legs to her chest, she hugged her knees and stared at him from in between the gap in her legs. “I don’t know. I guess … If someone doesn’t do anything, if someone doesn’t stand up to it, nothing will ever change. And I’m not okay with that.”

There was a pause and then he laughed, a bitter, low, noise. She watched as he ran his hand through his hair, his dark eyes flashing with deep sorrow before he shut them and shifted his face away from her. “There were two people who were once very close to me who believed that. One of them is insane now and there is nothing I can do to save him.”

Anna hesitated, almost fearing the answer to her question. “And the other?”

Kratos looked at her, his eyes unwavering, his frown sharp. “She is dead.”

“Dead …” Anna repeated the word, watching his shoulders slump, and for a moment, she forgot who he was, and what he had done, and it was as if they were back at the lake and nothing had ever happened to ruin that. “Is … that why you told me not to die?”

His face took on an unusual expression, one that she had never seen before, and he sighed heavily. “Yes, that is part of it. I simply … wanted to know your reasons. I never thought they would be so much like the reasons of the others …”

He trailed off and stared at his hands before glancing up to her again.

“I am sorry, for what it is worth. I do not expect, no,” he cut himself off, “I do not want your forgiveness. But I am sorry.”

It surprised her to hear it from his lips, but he was right, she couldn’t forgive him. She couldn’t even begin to understand what that meant to forgive him for it, but something … Something in her was willing to cooperate with him because of this.

“I’m just a job, right?” She finally said with a shrug.

“Perhaps not,” was all he said before he stood and strode from the room, leaving her in the silence of his wake. 


	9. Point of No Return

Anna had never seen so much tension in a room in her life, not even when Cody and Troy had butt heads after Troy’s first proposal. Kratos sat across from her, tight lipped, staring at Kvar, who hovered by the control panel in the corner to her right, a smug and shallow smile plastered on his thin lips. His long fingers drummed against the terminal as he stared Kratos down, to little avail.

She had to admit, Kratos was pretty impressively stubborn, and since he’d come here, not only her life but the lives of the other Ranch prisoners had improved. He was a fair leader and the behavior of the Desians had changed in regards to their prisoners …

Of course, that really didn’t justify that he hadn’t released them when Anna was almost sure he had the power, but at least he was putting Kvar in his place.

Everyone had their good points, she guessed.

“I have told you countless times,” Kratos’ hand hit the back of the file folder that he wore like a shield, “that you cannot continue to push this Crystal to such lengths, or it will erode and destroy all your hard earned research.”

“And I have asked you repeatedly if you are scientist, Lord Aurion. In order to question my methods –“

His snort was so loud it resonated through the chamber. “I do not need to be scientist in order to question your methods, _Lord_ Kvar,” Kvar’s fingers abruptly stopped drumming. “That is akin to saying that the populace is not allowed to question where their bread comes from. Let us not forget who employs who, shall we?”

Kvar looked livid, his thin face strained and pale as he was forced to bow to the idea that this man was his superior. Anna wanted to smile – It really did her good to see Kratos put the bastard in his place, to see _anyone_ put him in his place. She wished Eren could see this.

Unfortunately, her satisfaction didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh? It looks like the Inferior Being finds something funny about this situation,” Kvar’s damned smile returned as he turned to face her, reaching out to grab her chin in his cold hands.

Fighting down the urge to spit in his face and stomp on his feet, she returned his cruel gaze with what she hoped was a hate-filled glare. “Go to hell, Kvar. You don’t own me.”

“Don’t I?” That smile again, curling his lips further. “It would seem like you’re mistaken, A012. I _do_ own you. I own your very lifeforce to do with what I wish.”

“Just because you capture a wild dog, does that mean it stopped being wild?” She said, finally pulling away, only to find herself stumbling backwards, landing on her tailbone with a painful thud.

Kvar snarled, and raised his hand to strike her, not for the first time, and Anna flinched, closing her eyes to pretend the blow wasn’t happening. It would be over in a moment anyway, and then fade to an ache – She’d been hit enough to know that.

But the blow never came.

Cracking open her eyes cautiously, she found Kratos holding Kvar’s wrist in a bruising grasp, staring down at him with a look of chilling revulsion in his eyes. “I should think a scientist would have more care for his test subject, even a test subject with a mouth on her. A tradesman should always respect the tools of his trade, and this woman is far from expendable.”

And for the first time, Anna found herself truly terrified by Kratos. Not even when he had first walked into that room and she had discovered he was a Desian, not even when he had killed people in front of her, had she been scared of him. But in that moment, his eyes were so cold and terrifying she had no doubt that if Kvar made the wrong move, Kratos would snap his wrist and then proceed to snap his neck and feel no remorse over it.

_The first time is always the hardest._

But what about all the times afterward?

Anna suddenly shivered, remembering the look in that man’s eyes as he had died in front of her. She had taken everything from him, and to kill someone, even someone like Kvar, without regret?

What kind of person _was_ Kratos?

Even Kvar seemed to realize the gravity of his own situation, because he pulled away and muttered something about an appointment, spinning and leaving the room, the door sliding closed with a whoosh behind him. Anna could feel the hatred pouring off him in waves before he left and had every faith that he would make things more difficult for all the prisoners when Kratos left just to make up for having his power seized from him.

She almost hated Kratos for it, except …

“I am sorry you had to see that,” his voice drew her out of her thoughts, and her eyes lighted on his face, which was bowed and stern, his hand outstretched to help her to her feet.

Anna batted it away and stood on her own, turning away from him, unable to look him in the eye after what she just saw. And she didn’t want him to see her as weak, couldn’t risk that, because staying sane and alive was all that she had to hold onto.

Behind her, she felt him drop his arm, accompanied by an audible sigh. “For tonight, I am moving you back to holding. I am afraid of what he will attempt if I keep you alone and I am going off base for one night before returning for one last look at your Exsphere.”

“You think … He’ll stay away from me if I’m there?” Tentatively, she turned around and looked up at him, steeling herself, though she found his expression remarkably gentle. It was a bit surprising, to be honest, and a stark contrast to how he had looked at the Grand Cardninal. “Kvar will try to make an example of me no matter what.”

Kratos shook his head slowly. “No. I think that he will be prudent and leave you be. Ruthless Kvar is, but he knows when he has gone too far and is going to be monitored. He won’t touch you when I am destined to be back so soon, not with witnesses about.”

Anna could only nod; he had a point, but she didn’t really have anything else to say.

“Well, if that is the case, I will see you tomorrow. I suppose it is time for you to go out to work in the yard?”

As if on cue, the door slid upon and Adrus walked in, escorted by a few guards, a pair of shackles in his hand. Without another word to her, Kratos stood and left, sweeping out of the room grandly, and leaving her with her captors.

Something told her that today would be a long day.

 

XxX

 

Kratos stared at the mural, tracing its shape with his dark eyes, memorizing it. Over the last week, he had been so busy he had not had time to sit, but now, just before he left for his meeting with Yggdrasill and Arecus, he wanted a moment to clear his head and truly center himself. He would need a clear head to face Yggdrasill without faltering or turning back, and for some reason, staring at this painting grounded him.

It was a beautiful mural, one which any pastor would be proud to have painted on the walls of his church. The background a dark blue, faded eventually into a sunny and cloudless sky above a golden plain, where a woman in white robes with long, flowing locks of green hair hovered, arms outstretched as she waited for a man with golden hair to run into her arms. Pure feeling played across their faces, among their emotions relief and joy. They were so well portrayed that Kratos himself could almost feel them seep from the likenesses. Truly, it was beautiful, and difficult to believe that it had come from the hand of a trained assassin.

It was a rather idealistic interpretation of the awakening of the Goddess Martel, Kratos thought with a sigh, but it reminded him, at the very least, of what he was fighting for.

Standing, Kratos turned and took one last breath before steeling himself and make his way from the Ranch, there, Noishe waited for him, tail beating the ground, tongue lolling from his mouth.

“You are faster than flight at times, my friend,” Kratos said as he reached out and scratched the beast behind the ears. “Shall we ride? I would prefer to get this over with and not spend any more time in Yggdrasill’s presence than is needed.”

Noishe barked in response, allowing Kratos to climb atop his back, and like that, they took off like a shot, Noishe’s paws barely seeming to scrape the earth as he ran. Man and animal became one blur across the landscape, barreling toward the horizon, where the sun had just began its descent, sinking behind the distant cliffs to the south and west.

It was the last moment Kratos would truly be able to rest his mind in many long months, he figured. There was too much at stake, his plans were too many, to really give him another moment like this again for a good while. So he relished it, the sight of the world going by in flashes, the beauty of the darkening sky, the peace of nothing but him, Noishe, and the world that he had come to delight in.

Solitude was a gift that he would not be able to enjoy if he were successful.

Soon, Kratos was forced to dismount and take the perpetually hidden trail to his destination on foot, Noishe trailing after him noiselessly. It did not take Kratos long to make the journey to an empty and desolate clearing where he placed his hand against what seemed to be an invisible column of air, sending lines of blue light out from the direction of his palm, where a high, arched doorway emerged but a moment later. Together, he and Noishe stepped through the corridor, the doorway vanishing behind them a moment later.

“I suppose this is it, old friend,” Kratos told the animal, turning to him and scratching him behind the ears once more. “I will return momentarily with a few supplies, and then we shall return to the Ranch. Wait for us in the trees. I will make my move soon.”

A whine was his only response as Noishe sat down and nudged his palm affectionately. Smiling vaguely at the encouragement, Kratos turned and took leave of his old companion, stepping into the center of a glowing magic circle only to have his particles rearranged and transported elsewhere.

Once more enveloped in eerie silence, Kratos made his way to the audience chamber, where he found not two, but three people waiting for him.

Yuan.

The man stood by Yggdrasill’s side and cast Kratos a knowing smile, placing his hand on their leader’s shoulder to get his attention. Spinniing, Yggdrasill grinned and glided forward with his typical practiced grace to wrap him in a hug. “Oh! Kratos, you’re early!”

“Yes,” Kratos said, pulling away. “I bring you word of Kvar’s accomplishments, though I warn you, he is responsible of reckless endangerment of your pet project.” And so Kratos launched into his report, watch Arecus’ frown grow progressively deeper and Yggdrasill’s eyebrows rise higher and higher. “So as you can see, I do not think he is the appropriate choice for the position. There is no doubt Kvar has a brilliant mind, but he is too ambitious to simply be content with the role you give him. It is best to keep him in a position where his power can be kept in check.”

“I see,” Yggdrasill hummed, and turned to Yuan with a smile. “What do you think, brother?”

“I think that trusting Kratos’ judgment is the best thing you could do in this situation,” Yuan said, his eyes never wavering from Kratos, as if he were waiting for something to happen; typical Yuan, inserting himself into situations he found fascinating for the sake of witnessing them happen. “He’s your most consistent and loyal scion, after all.”

“Indeed he is,” Yggdrasill almost purred, making Kratos hesitate for a fraction of a second. “Is there something else you’d like to say, Kratos?”

He thought of the boy he had once known, thought of the woman with green hair on the mural, of all they had promised to do, and then he looked into Yuan’s eyes, saw the bitterness there, the expectation. He recalled Anna Irving, who she had once been and what he had seen her transform into, a scrappy, mistrustful creature scarred by the Human Ranches. And he remembered the Exsphere Production Plants of the Kharlan War, sacrificing the lives of POWs for the sake of magic, power-enhancing stones.

A world where everyone was like them was not something Kratos could condone, no matter whose dream it was.

“I mean to ask you about the purpose of the Angelus Project, Mithos,” Kratos said, making sure his tone was not one of servant-to-master, but the tone of master-to-pupil, though in truth he could no longer claim that title. “It is not simply to replenish our stores. Two years ago, you told me you believed this family to be the one to produce the vessel. What is the reason?”

Yggdrasill frowned, and with a glance, dismissed Arecus, who bowed as he backed away. When the man was gone, he levied a sigh at Kratos and offered him a tired smile. “I should have known you would realize sooner or later.” He frowned sharply and took a seat in his nearby throne. “I’m sorry for not telling you, Kratos, I simply … I wasn’t sure how you’d take the news.”

“Oh?” He arched his eyebrows, waiting for Yggdrasill to confess. “And what about this news might upset me?”

“I’m sure you’ll understand, it’s a silly concern, really,” Yggdrasill waved his hand dismissively. “I mean, you’ve always been loyal to me and supported me, I see no reason for you to leave me over this, especially since it’s for a good reason.” He paused, chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully, and ignored Yuan’s intent stare. “Do you remember what Martel said before she died? About … About making a world free from discrimination?”

Kratos nodded in tight-lipped acknowledgement.

“Well, I wish to make everyone the same race. That way, there will be no more cause for discrimination, Kratos. We’ll all be the same,” he smiled sweetly, and Kratos realized he sincerely found no flaw in his own logic. “Won’t that be wonderful?”

“No it will not.”

Yggdrasill looked as if he had been slapped and blinked his eyes slowly, leaning forward and clearing his throat, “Excuse me?”

“It will not be wonderful,” Kratos could hardly believe the words were coming out of his own mouth, and from Yggdrasill’s expression, he could not, either. “What makes you think robbing people of all that makes them people is even remotely a good idea?”

“But you’re happy, aren’t you, Kratos? And Yuan is happy? And so are the angels?”

His green eyes were wide and pleading, his face drawn up into a pout, as if begging Kratos to see it his way. It was a manipulative and underhanded tactic, Kratos thought, for he had likely not felt anything save for his dead sister in many long years.

“I am not happy,” Kratos finally said, his words shattering the illusion like a hammer. “I have not been happy for some time, Mithos. I have given up much for your sake, but I am not happy.”

Yggdrasill look stricken, and stood, his fists clenched tightly at his side. “What are you saying, Kratos? After all we’ve worked toward, when I’m—We’re so close to our goal … And you mean to tell me you’re not happy?”

“I have lost everything, Mithos,” Kratos replied, glancing away from the rapidly paling face to stare at his own hands. “My family. My … My humanity.”

“Humans killed my sister!” Yggdrasill suddenly shouted, drawing Kratos’ eyes to his face, finding tears there; and though Kratos would like to believe they were sincere tears … He could no longer trust anything Yggdrasill said. “Why would you want to be one of … One of **_them_**? I _saved_ you!”

Kratos simply shook his head. “No. I no longer know who I am. I have not for quite some time …” He trailed off and glanced to Yuan before shifting his eyes back to Yggdrasill. “The people you are sacrificing … I cannot condone this.”

“W-what are you saying? Kratos? Kratos tell me!” The desperation in his voice was clear and Kratos nearly flinched at the sound.

“I am leaving, Mithos.”

Silence rang louder than any response could have.

 

XxX

 

Anna sat by Eren’s side, pressing her fingers against the wound on his forehead, trying to bite back frantic tears. He was burning up, hot to the touch, and she had no idea what to do precisely because there was nothing she **_could_** do.

She’d seen it happen before:

Someone would get in a fight, which the Desians would let happen because it was free entertainment, and the loser wouldn’t die, but be wounded, and then they’d slowly die from sickness and infection. And there was nothing anyone could do because they’d die anyway, and because the suffering would make the Exspheres awaken more quickly, at least, that’s what Adrus had told her.

So now she sat, Eren’s head in her lap, staring into his fevered face as she attempted to gather her wits and be strong for him, ignoring the stares of the onlookers. Most of them had been curious at her return, others had been suspicious, but right now she honestly didn’t give a damn. The most important person to her in the world at this moment was the man in her lap, her one link to her past, slowly dying.

Before they’d come here, she hadn’t even known him that well. They’d never been close, but he’d always been polite, since Anna was his bride’s best friend, but then … Then they were taken together, and ever since, Eren had become her best friend.

Hell, they even had a lot in common, just …

Why did this have to happen?

“Don’t look so sad, pretty lady,” Anna’s eyes snapped downward and she looked into Eren’s plain and smiling face; he looked awful, exhausted and worn, but contented, for some reason.

“How can you say something like that at a time like this?” she grumbled, but offered him a small smile.

“Easily enough,” he laughed softly and shook his head weakly. “When you’re going to … To die, things kind of get a new perspective, you know? I’m …” he trailed off and his smile grew wider. “I’m finally going to be free, Annie.”

“Don’t talk like that,” she grumbled. “What … What about finding Grace again? About all the things we talked about doing once we get out of here?”

He frowned suddenly, but then closed his eyes and relaxed. “You can still do those things, Annie, but I don’t think I was ever meant to make it out of here, not in body anyway, but maybe …” He weakly raised a hand and began to tug something from his neck, handing it to Anna.

Cold metal in her hand, Anna’s eyes focused on the object instead of Eren’s face, finding his wedding ring dangling from the chain before her. “This …”

“I can leave in spirit if you take this,” Eren said, and Anna looked into his eyes. “Find Grace. Tell her what happened. Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to see our boy grow up. Tell him I loved him, please …” His eyes began to shine with tears. “Tell my boy I loved him.”

“Damnit, Eren! If you can talk like that, fight it! We can get out of here together, we can--!”

“No,” he cut her off, voice firm. “I would only drag you down, Anna, you know that. I’m sick. My arm is broken. I’m going to die here.”

The words were stark, and Anna knew that no matter what she wished, he was right. She’d seen this too many times before to think otherwise.

“I’ll do it,” she muttered. “I’ll find Grace and you son for you, Eren. And I’ll let them know you loved them.”

He just smiled and fell silent for awhile, nodding off, which Anna knew because she could still feel him breathing. It allowed her time to focus on the people who were staring at her, sending the scuttling with a long glare.

She knew what they were saying behind her back –

The whispers were impossible to ignore, really.

This was her fault, Eren, normally so peaceful, so focused on simply surviving, had broken one of the rules of the Ranch to defend her honor. Anna didn’t know the specifics of what they’d said, but she could guess that it had to do with using her body to curry favor with “Lord Kratos.”

Yeah right.

Like that would ever happen.

Besides, as it was, Anna wasn’t exactly attractive, her ribs showing, all her shape gone.

But they were right about one thing – It was her fault. She should have expected Eren to do something like this, should have fought harder when they moved her to solitary, something to stop this from happening.

Thanks to her, her best friend’s husband was dying in her arms.

Some friend she was.

“It’s going to be okay,” Eren’s voice was soft, softer than she had ever heard it before. “I know you’re going to make it. I just have this feeling, Annie. I’ve been praying and I know that they’re going to send help for you … You’re going to get out … You’re going to be free.”

Looking at him, at his helpless, sweaty, face, Anna found she could no longer hold back her tears. “What good does being free do if I can’t even help the people in front of me?”

“What do you mean, can’t help the people in front of you?” Eren closed his eyes and continued to smile. “You’ve helped me, Annie, because you gave me hope …”

He trailed off, and though he wasn’t dead, Anna could sense death all over him, and knew the end was near. Her tears drying in her eyes she looked at his face and swore to keep her promise to him, because this time, no matter what, she had something to fight for.

And when tomorrow came, even though she would be sad and tired, she would fight on, because she had to keep her promise.

No matter what.

 

XxX

 

“You don’t mean that,” the voice was frantic. “You don’t mean that, Kratos! You can’t mean that!”

Kratos did not avert his eyes, though he wanted to. “I do. I cannot serve someone who has violated the beliefs he once held dear. I will not fight against you, Mithos, but I can no longer support you.” He turned around and began to walk away, but found his path blocked by Yggdrasill, who had teleported to stand in front of him.

“I won’t let you leave, Kratos!” he snapped, reaching out his hand as if to grab the soldier.

Snorting, Kratos jumped back and unsheathed his sword in a single arc.

“While you are welcome to try to stop me, I warn you –“ He narrowed his eyes. “I am still every bit as capable of a swordsman as I was when I trained you.”

Yggdrasill laughed and then charged him. “I already told you I won’t let you leave, Kratos! Give up! I’ve grown far more powerful than you could ever imagine!”

In reality, Kratos had been very careful to observe the level of power his old student had attained, and so he was well aware of his strengths … And weaknesses. His arrogance was his biggest downfall and his easiest target. Snorting, Kratos simply nodded at Mithos to advance.

And advance he did, materializing a blade forged of starlight in his hand, charging Kratos, who deflected his first blow, and then launched a counterattack as Mithos staggered back, finding his blow narrowly blocked.

He smirked and dove forward again, his half-smile turning into a sneer as he drove Mithos back with a succession of blows the other was hard pressed to block. As Kratos had suspected, he’d spent so long dictating to everyone else that he had lost much of his ability.

“What did I tell you, Mithos?” He disarmed Yggdrasill with a well aimed parry, watching the other snarl his rage and dismay at being bested. “The first thing a Knight must remember is to always keep his skills sharp.”

Yggdrasill growled and reached out a hand as if to grab Kratos. “I _own_ you, Kratos.”

The statement shocked and disturbed him greatly, but … Should he have been surprised? Should it really have hurt to hear a boy he once considered his dearest of friends say such a thing? How far had Mithos fallen because of him? What had he allowed to happen?

“I am sorry, Mithos,” Kratos said, slapping the other’s hand away and interrupting the bright light that was growing there, “but no man owns me.”

“Why you--!”

A bolt of lightning suddenly shot between them and Kratos jumped back, having forgotten Yuan was there. He started at their companion a moment before straightening and nodding, but he did not sheath his blade, ever aware of how tense Mithos was.

“Stop. The both of you,” Yuan’s voice was cold and low. “Let him go … Brother. Kratos needs to find his own path.” His green eyes darted to Kratos and he scanned him before turning away. “Besides, he said he wouldn’t fight against you, didn’t he?”

And just like that, Yggdrasill was back, smiling softly and laughing to himself as he dropped his guard. “Of course, Yuan, my brother. You’re right. I’m sure all Kratos needs is time … That’s it …” His eyes took on a faraway look that Kratos recognized all too well – The look of a man trapped within the maze of his own memories. “Leave me. I need to be alone with my sister.”

Knowing that there would be no reaching him, Kratos turned away and strode off, his own mind beginning to wander. Yuan trailed along beside him, a tight lipped frown on his face. They were silent for a long time, Kratos consumed by thoughts of his own guilt, Yuan likely stewing in thoughts of his own, until Yuan broke the silence.

“You were lying.”

“Pardon me?” Kratos glanced toward him, blinking, drawn back to the present by the other’s words.

Yuan was not looking at him, rather, he was staring straight forward with a rather determined looking expression on his face. Kratos could not figure out what was going on inside of his head, however.

It had been a long time since he had been able to do that.

“You’re not going to just passively sit and let him do whatever the hell he wants. I know the look in your eye,” he snorted. “You have a plan, and if I know you, it’s probably incredibly stupid.”

“I have no idea what you are referring to,” Kratos began to walk past him, but Yuan grabbed his sleeve and spun him around.

“Damnit, Kratos! Listen to me for once in you Sylph forsaken life!” His blue brow was knit tightly over his green eyes, his voice a low growl. “I don’t care what your plan is. It probably has to do with that girl, but I frankly don’t give a rat’s ass what’s going on inside that head of yours.”

Kratos simply started at him, waited for him to continue. He knew that Yuan would not relent until he had said his piece.

“I want you to realize that what you’re doing actually has serious consequences. When you first contacted me about …. All of this,” Yuan motioned about them as if to indicate everything their actions had created, “I thought you were just complaining, being irrational, but you went through with it. And you should know –“ He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened his eyes again. ‘You should know that if you go through with this, he won’t be lenient on you. Whatever you’re going to do, you’re not just going to be able to walk around and do whatever you want.”

Kratos’ brow furrowed to mirror Yuan’s.

“Kratos, you’re going to make yourself Yggdrasill’s enemy …” His eyes, his expression, they were earnest. “Are you prepared to do that?”

“I’ve thought about it,” Kratos said. “Or do you forget who you are speaking to?”

“Right. Mister I Always Consider the Consequences of My Actions,” Yuan’s smile was light, a reminder of their old bond, of the humor that had once flowed between them. Yet it was gone a moment later, replaced by a frown. “But do you really understand what the consequences are, Kratos? Their full scope? I have to wonder if you do.”

Kratos frowned and for a long moment stared at his old companion before sighing and running his hands through his hair, turning away from Yuan. “Even if I do not, Yuan, I cannot live this way anymore. I cannot allow this … Bloodshed to continue. Even if all I can do is steal and hide away the lynchpin of his plans, even if that is nothing in the grand scale of things … I have to do something.” His voice took on a bitter note. “My only regret is that I did not realize this sooner.”

He could feel Yuan hesitate, words on the end of his tongue, as if he were struggling with whether or not to entrust Kratos with some vital piece of information. Hearing something whistle through the air, Kratos turned around and caught a small, sleek, communicator. “It’s a dircet line that will contact you with me. I can’t do much, but … I would be a piss poor excuse for your friend if I let you get killed.”

“And it is secure?” Kratos asked, looking at the small device in his hand.

He received a snort in response, and an eye roll. “Oh please, Aurion. I’ve been doing this whole “running around behind Yggdrasill’s back” thing longer than you have.” A smirk graced his features. “Trust me, it’s secure.”

_Renegades_.

The word flashed briefly through Kratos’ head, but he dismissed it, offering Yuan his thanks and then turning to leave. He would go back to the Ranch and after a day or so, would execute his plans, after all, Yggdrasill was sufficiently distracted by his own musings and would not pull out of them enough to give orders until much later.

Kratos could do this.

Would do this.

There was no longer an option.

Finally, a plan a week in the making would come to fruition and Kratos would perhaps stall the very plan he had come to detest.

He froze in his path only when he heard Yuan’s voice. “Don’t die, Stupid Human.”

And with a smile on his lips at the old endearment, knowing full well his old friend could hear him, Kratos responded.

“I do not intend to.”


	10. Liberation

It would be their last appointment, their last meeting, as project and observer, for he intended to end all of this tonight. Most of his last day had been spent simply attempting to unwind from his confrontation with Yggdrasill, who had not yet contacted Kvar about Kratos’ apparent defection from their organization. For the time being, at least, he still had his rank, and that would be enough to allow him to do what he wished until the time came.

That morning, he had sent a transmission to Noishe with orders to await them at Lake Umacy not far away, where he had established a checkpoint and the Desians could not so easily pursue him, not efficiently. He would bring the girl, and then he would run with her, hide her away, using all his strength to prevent the Age of Inorganic Beings … Perhaps then he could begin to atone for what he had allowed.

As it was, he currently sat in an examination room with Anna and her handler, who had explained to him before their session had began that Anna had lost her closet companion in the Ranch but a few days ago. It would explain how grim she looked, how very old and tired she seemed to him now, for grief, as he was well aware, sloped shoulders and made ordinary life far harder than it ever had been before. But there was new determination in her eyes, a resolve that he believed may be to escape and see the world beyond the Ranch walls.

It was a good thing and would make convincing her easier than it would have been otherwise.

Even if she did not trust him, she would allow him to offer her freedom, of this he was sure.

“You keep giving me that look,” Kratos’ eyes focused and he straightened in his seat, looking at Anna, who was frowning up at him, her green eyes guarded.

Kratos’ eyes flickered to Adrus, who was standing at the doorway, watching them. He had to be careful what he said in front of the other, for he could not reveal his plan, and he was already certain the other was suspicious of him. Perhaps he should have been more careful in his line of questioning last week, though he must admit he was grateful that Adrus had not yet revealed any suspicions he had to Kvar.

He had to wonder at the reasons, however.

“I do not know what you are referring to,” was the answer Kratos eventually settled for, prompting Anna to snort and cross her arms firmly over her chest.

“Like hell you don’t,” she sighed and tried to explain, motioning her arms before glancing toward Adrus for help. “Have you noticed what I’m talking about?” Adrus (wisely) didn’t say anything, just sighed, leaving Anna on her own. The woman frowned more deeply. “It’s vacant. Like you’re staring through me, but thinking about me anyway.”

It was Kratos’ turn to snort, shaking his head slowly. “A012, I am simply thinking. It is not necessarily about you.”

She frowned at him but really couldn’t say anything, turning her face away to stare at the wall before looking back toward him a moment later. For some reason, he had the feeling she was attempting to interrogate him, though he was not really sure what she was getting out of it. Perhaps a distraction from her grief?

He could not begrudge her that.

“So why did you come back?” She asked him, pulling her legs to her chest as she sat in her chair. “I’ve been thinking about it and I couldn’t figure out a reason. You were here to spy on Kvar, right? But you already reported on him, so why did you come back?”

Kratos noticed Adrus suddenly paying more attention, Anna voicing suspicions he himself must have.

He simply shook his head in response before taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “Lord Yggdrasill still requires information on the Angelus Project. It is very important to a future plan of his,” he explained, making sure to be as honest as he was able with the information without giving too much away. “It is related to a goal he and the Desians share.”

“The Age of Half Elves.”

Kratos looked to Adrus, nodding curtly before turning his attention back to the woman in front of him. “Yes. He is interested in … Creating an even playing field, so to speak. The Angelus Project is therefore the means to an end.”

“An even playing field?” Anna asked.

It was Adrus, not Kratos, who answered, speaking before he could explain to her what his words had meant. “Lord Yggrasill seeks to bring Half Elves out of the dark and give them the rights and power they’ve never had. He seeks to make up for thousands of years of oppression and suffering.”

Kratos shook his head, but did not have to answer, watching Anna clench her jaw, her green eyes blazing as she stared Adrus in the eyes. “And to justify it he kills hundreds of Humans? Some boss you two have.”

If only she knew how short her estimate of the people he had allowed to be killed truly was.

“It’s for the sake of a better world,” the Lieutenant was obstinate. “For the sake of making up for all the bad things done to us, sacrifices have to be made. But it won’t be this way when we win. We’re going to be better than what was done to us, and we’re going to make the world a better place. The Goddess is on our side.”

“So it’s okay to just up and kill some people who have done _nothing to you personally_ just because some people a long time ago did some shit to you? That’s such crap,” she turned away from him, and Kratos could see the pain in her eyes. “And that’s such a load of garbage. The Goddess is sleeping. She can’t be on anyone’s side, and even if she were, you Desians are the ones who caused her to sleep in the first place!”

“That’s not true. Humans put Martel to sleep when they started treating Half Elves with disdain. Their hatred drove her to slumber. We only do what we do to help revive her,” Adrus was surprisingly calm, though Kratos could not help but detect a note of condescension in his tone, as if he were teaching an ignorant child some life-changing truth.

Watching the exchange with some interest, Kratos found himself feeling oddly satisfied that they appeared to have forgotten his existence. It gave him leeway to watch the exchange without being noticed, which was something infinitely valuable to him.

He found it fascinating to watch Anna argue, to watch the fire of her idealistic spirit blaze, the flames of her passion licking from her eyes in an attempt to singe Adrus. There would be no victor, could be no victor, and he would break their fight up soon, but he felt as if he were learning something of her simply through observation.

“That is enough. This is not the time for a theological debate,” Kratos said finally, just as Anna was about to retort. “Adrus is correct. It is Yggdrasill’s aim to create a world in which no discrimination exists and to revive the Goddess Martel. He has never been an enemy of The Church.”

_Only an enemy of the people._

“So basically the Desians are a twisted religious cult,” Anna muttered. “It all makes a lot more sense now. I guess that’s why they started the War in the first place, then, because they disagreed with the true believers.”

“That’s not what happened at a –“

Adrus began to speak, but Kratos held up a hand to silence him. “I said enough. Allow her to believe what she wishes and take her back to her cell. I have a report to write.”

There was a pause, a hesitance, as Adrus reached down for the shackles hanging from his belt. “Lord Aurion … May I visit you in your office later on tonight?”

Kratos almost refused; however, he had to keep up appearances. He would have to make the final preparations for his plan sooner rather than later, but he would go through with acting the part until the last moment.

“Very well, Lieutenant Adrus. I will be waiting.”

 

XxX

 

All she could do was stare at her wall and feel frustrated, running her hands through her hair before sitting down against the wall, not on the cot. She didn’t know what to do, because for the first time she felt truly trapped here. Even those two years ago she’d had hope that this would end, that someone would save her and take her away, even when she was wallowing in the grief of losing everything. But this time, when she really wanted to escapes, how much work that would actually take hit her like a cartload of bricks.

There were so many obstacles, so many things standing in her way, that it almost made her lose faith … Almost.

Pulling the ring out to look at it, Anna ran her fingers across the cool surface, her face reflected in the burnished gold. This ring represented a lot to her – Eren’s dying wish, her past, her future, and hope. She had to get out of here, had to find Grace and give this ring to her to tell her about what had happened to Eren. And then she had to find the rest of her family and help people who were victimized by the Desians as much as she could.

Because a better world was possible, it just wasn’t the world Adrus dreamed of.

Feeling emotionally drained, Anna glanced to her cot, and from the floor saw something stuffed underneath it that hadn’t been there two days ago when she’d left the room. Frowning sharply, she crawled across the floor on her hands and knees, leaning low to reach beneath the bed, pulling out the package with a slight grunt.

Frowning, she realized she probably shouldn’t open it when the camera was on, but looking up she found the little yellow light that flashed when it was recording was dead. Her brow furrowed further and she looked down at what she clutched tightly in her hands, which, now that she looked at it, was a dagger in a leather sheath with a letter tied to it using twine. With shaking fingers, she unfastened the twine and unfolded the letter, which was written on very pristine looking paper.

It was hand-written, printed instead of written in cursive, in small, neat looking letters with a slight slant to them. Anna was confused, because no one had written her a hand-written since she’d received her last letter from Troy in Luin over two years, but had no idea what this would be doing here, under the bed in which she slept.

She figured the only way to find out was to read the letter.

 _“Miss Irving,”_ the letter began, almost immediately alerting her to the author of this note, even without glancing to the bottom of the third page, where his name was written in nearly illegible cursive; she supposed that’s why he’d decided to print the note.

_“I am sure you are wonder why I have written to you. To be honest, I myself debated upon this course of action, however, I inevitably decided on this path when I realized that I would not have a chance to explain my plan to you otherwise, and if I did not explain, you would be hard pressed to listen to me. And so, though I am perhaps more terrible at communicating through text than I am face to face, I take this path as my last recourse.”_

_“There is much I cannot explain to you because simply knowing it would put you in danger. However, I can tell you that something I have recently discovered, something revolving around the Angelus Project, has lead me to have second thoughts about all which I have allowed these many long years. With this in mind, I can no longer stay a part of this organization, an organization I would have already left long ago if it were not for certain circumstances that prevented me from leaving. But because even I have my limits, I have decided that I must leave, and I would like, if at all possible, to prevent the future Yggdrasill is dreaming of.”_

_“And I suppose that this is the main point of my letter, Miss Irving. I would like to rescue from this Human Ranch, you and only you, and travel with you to prevent Kvar and others like him from furthering their research. Though I know the offer may seem selfish or cruel, please understand that at this point not much else can be done to destroy this system, and this is perhaps our only chance at dealing a blow to his empire.”_

_“I ask that, if you accept, you not run from me. The Desians will pursue you, for you are not like a normal prisoner. Your Exsphere is special, and they will seek to regain it, and by yourself, no matter how many daggers I give you, you will not be able to fight them off. I seek to protect you, to help get you back on your feet. In any case, I recall you wanted to travel. This is a good opportunity for you to see the world.”_

_“It is not your forgiveness I seek, Miss Irving, only your partnership. All I ask is that you trust me to keep you safe this one last time.”_

_“Think about it. I will be there to fetch you on the night of the second day after my return.”_

_“With the greatest sincerity …”_

“Kratos Aurion,” Anna placed her fingers against the page, frowning deeply before looking at the dagger.

She wished she could say she was surprised, that this shocked her, and she supposed that it did on a superficial level. Kratos was a Desian High Lord who had more power than anyone else, who could have killed Kvar without consequences, and here he was offering to help her escape from the Ranch. There were some strings attached, like she had to live with him for an indefinite period of time, but she was sure if she asked he would have a plan for that, too, that there was a way for them to go their separate ways eventually.

And to be honest, she couldn’t get the image of Kratos the Knight out of her mind.

Something deep inside of her screamed “I knew it”, while her head screamed that she was being an idiot for so easily taking him at his word, for believing that this letter was sincere when he had betrayed her once before … But … But something about Kratos Aurion was so ridiculously sincere you couldn’t help but trust him, no matter how much of an ass he was, no matter how cruel or cold he seemed … There was always that part of him that was trustworthy, the part of him that made her want to believe that he truly hadn’t meant for any of this to happen.

It had to be wishful thinking, though, she told herself. If being in the Ranch had taught her one thing, it was that fairy tales weren’t real, and that life was give and take. Most people, put under pressure, would become wicked, and though it hurt Anna, she had to accept that Kratos was the same as most people.

Still …

Was she really in a position to refuse his offer?

There was no shame in taking advantage of him, was there? In allowing him to free her so she could pursue her goals? Find Grace, Troy, her family … And maybe make a difference along the way?

No.

She would refuse to believe that that was the wrong thing to do.

So, clutching the dagger to her chest, Anna smiled a grim smile.

She would accept his offer.

 

XxX

 

Adrus looked nervous, though Kratos could not really blame him. There was something on his mind, of that much Kratos was sure, and though he could chance a few guesses on what it was about he did not particularly feel like bringing it up himself. Rather, he waited, staring at the Lieutenant until he decided to speak.

“Sir … Lord … Aurion,” he finally began, struggling with his words; Kratos sat back, allowed him to find them. “A012 told me of … Your prior meeting. Though I understand it isn’t any of my business, I was wondering if, perhaps, that prior experience is … Interfering with your judgment?”

Kratos raised his eyebrows, and Adrus stilled himself by taking a deep breath, gaining confidence. “I don’t mean to say that you’re defecting or anything like that, I was simply wondering if the conditions she’s been living in are conducive to suffering,” hearing those words prompted Kratos to frown, and, mistaking it as displeasure with his words, Adrus elaborated. “I don’t particularly think taking away all there hope is a great idea, Lord Aurion. I’m not like my superior and I believe that some hope actually increases the growth rate of the Exspheres because it makes the suffering seem keener, but … Haven’t things gotten too easy for her?”

“I will not be here forever, Lieutenant,” Kratos began. “I am sure you realize this. To be honest, most of what I am doing it to help her recover from what Kvar has put her through these past two years. I wish to extend the life of the project, and know full well what I am doing. Any rehabilitation I can provide so that she can withstand Kvar’s treatment is worth it.”

He watched as the Lieutenant’s eyes widened and the man glanced away before taking a deep breath and nodding. Kratos could tell he believed what he had said, for better or worse, though he was certain that would not last for much longer.

“I respect you, sir. I always have. You’ve made the Ranch run more efficiently, and the many of the men here like you far more than they like Lord Kvar,” Kratos snorted, for that was not saying much.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Lieutenant.” Kratos replied, picking his quill up off the desk and examining it; he wondered vaguely if there was more of a point to this.

“If you’re planning something, I’m going to have to report you.”

Calmly, Kratos looked into Adrus’ eyes, placing the quill back down on the desk. Though he had expected Adrus to be concerned about the Angelus Project, he had not expected this and found himself wondering what had tipped Adrus off. Interest piqued, Kratos was suddenly grateful that he was putting his plans into action tonight, deciding that he would need to be on high alert regardless of when the plan was going into action.

“And what makes you think I am planning something?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Adrus admitted after a tense moment, shaking his head slowly. “I tend to have decent gut instincts and something tells me that you’re planning something.” His prior nervousness was gone, which was both a curse and a blessing, allowing him to stare Kratos in the eyes. “Whatever it is, don’t do it. You can do more good within the organization than from without.”

Kratos said nothing, staring at Adrus for a long time, attempting to formulate a response. There really wasn’t much he could think to say to chase away the man’s worries and assure him that he was still loyal, for he was an honest man, perhaps to a fault. All he could do was wear the mask of High Lord and play that role to its fullest.

“I assure you, whatever decisions I make are for the good of Martel and the world,” Kratos finally said. “I will not do anything to betray the trust of the Goddess, which you well know, Adrus, as you know the truth of who I am.”

Shock, genuine shock, flickered across his subordinate’s face before he nodded, the tension draining from his shoulders. “Of course. I have to admit, I don’t know the workings of your mind, Lord Aurion, and I never could. I’m sorry for bothering you with this. It all seems rather silly now …” But his face looked distracted and worried, still, and Kratos was certain that he would later cause him troubles.

For the time being, however, the crisis appeared to have been averted.

“It is alright, Lieutenant. Your heart was in the right place, as I can tell it often is. Now if you excuse me, I am leaving in the morrow. I would like to file the last of my reports before packing my things away in preparation for my departure.”

Adrus stood and bowed, crossing his fist over his heart in salute before retreating, leaving Kratos with his thoughts.

Once the man was gone, Kratos swooped down, pulled a package wrapped in brown paper from underneath his desk, and began to strip from his old uniform. After all, there was no surveillance camera in the office to spy on him, and he did not particularly relish the idea of getting his good uniform full of blood. The rest of his supplies were with Noishe, presumably somewhere around Lake Umacy by now, including a few things he would need to take care of Miss Irving, though they would still need to stop in Asgard for her to rest.

Garbed suddenly in something less conspicuous, Kratos pulled his heavy cloak about his shoulders and slung his sword into his sheath belt. Normally, he would not risk bringing Flamberge on a journey to this place as it stood out too greatly, but he would not be able to go back for it and did not have the heart to leave it behind. The sword was his constant companion, an extension of himself, of his soul, and to lose it without the chance of getting it back was almost painful to him.

Turning to look at his reflection in the polished metal of the walls, Kratos could hardly believe his own appearance. He had not dressed so normally since he had met Miss Irving two years ago, and before that occurrence, he couldn’t remember another time when he’d worn such a garb. He truly did look almost like a normal swordsman, dressed in dark blues, violets, and blacks, eccentric colors that marked him as a tradesman, but not … Not so unusual.

This would have to do.

Spinning away, he laced his wingpack through his belt, drew his cloak tightly about his shoulders, and set off down the hallway, knowing full well that before the night was over, blood would be shed by his hand.

 

XxX

 

Her first thought when he walked into her cell was that at least he had made an effort to try to look like a normal person. Still, if he thought that would fool anyone into thinking he was really normal, he was wrong. Even she had known those two years ago that Kratos Aurion wasn’t a normal man by any stretch of the imagination, so no one would mistake him for anything other than what he was, though she wasn’t really sure that there was a word to describe him.

“I read your letter,” she said as the door slid shut behind him.

“And have you made a decision?” There was something in the way that he stood that told her he had assessed her answer before she had even opened her mouth to speak, but Anna found herself answering anyway.

“I’ll do it,” Anna nodded and stood. “I can’t help anyone staying here and I made a promise to my friend that I would escape, so if you’re offering it to me, I’m not really in a position to refuse.”

“Very well.”

There was no sarcastic comment, no raising of his eyebrows or mocking of her decision in any way. He didn’t even scold her for her reasoning; he simply kneeled down, removed the pack from his side to rummage in it, and threw something at her. “I will turn around, just get changed. We can’t have you wearing that garb when we get into town. People will still know something happened to you, but it is better we not give them any reason to chase us out.”

She blinked at him for a long time, but when he actually kept his word and turned his back (not that he would really want to see her naked anyway; **_she_** didn’t even want to see herself naked), she pulled off the prisoner’s garb and pulled herself into a pair of clean, but old smelling, pants, and an oversized shirt. Sitting down on the cot, she pulled on the boots and then tied the belt around her waist, only to find Kratos staring at her when she looked up.

“Let me help you with the dagger and take off that prisoner’s collar,” he said before leaning down and helping her to lace the sheath’s straps through the belt so it hung at her left side.

Walking around to her back, Kratos placed his hands on the back of the collar and it fell away with a deafening clank onto the floor in front of her. Staring, she looked down to find that the pin that had been holding the two pieces together had been forcefully pulled away, though apparently it had been effortless.

Apparently he had super strength.

Why wasn’t she surprised?

“Am I ready?” She asked, turning around, looking up into his eyes.

“As soon as you put on the gloves to hide the Exshphere,” Kratos replied, handing her a pair of small, grey, fingerless gloves. “They will also help you to grip your dagger.” The look she gave him must have been enough to prompt elaboration. “Sweaty palms,” he explained.

Anna nodded.

“Before we go, I want to prepare you for what is going to happen,” he walked away and went to lean against the wall, where he crossed his arms over his chest. “This is not going to be easy; as I am sure you’ve already figured out.”

Anna only nodded again and went to sit back on her cot, pulling her legs to her chest and staring at him while she waited for him to continue.

“You must stay near me at all time, as close as you possibly can, and you must trust me to protect you. There will be Desians coming at us from all sides, but I am a professional swordsman and you must leave them to me, trusting in my ability to get us out alive, trusting my ability to know where I am going,” his eyes were sharp, commanding, and though she didn’t trust him to tell her the truth about really anything regarding himself, but when it came to fighting … That she trusted him to do well. “After we escape, follow me. We will be running for some time in an easterly direction. Do not worry, when you get tired, I will carry you.”

Anna nodded.

“Which reminds me, there is one more thing I must do before you are ready to leave,” he held out his own gloved hand. “Give me your dagger.”

Frowning, she pulled it out of its sheath and handed it over, prompting him to frown at her. “Remind me to teach you how to hold a bladed weapon once we reach the lake.”

She didn’t comment, only watched him as he flipped the blade around so the blade was pointed outward, grabbed her long, dead, hair, and in one fell swoop, cut it away. She almost smacked him for it, but when she realized how much lighter her head felt, and that she would have had to cut it off for it to be healthy again anyway, she didn’t mind so much.

“So where are we going after we get out of here?” she asked him, wondering if she was allowed to privy to his plans.

“Lake Umacy, where we will probably spend a few days resting and going over any cover stories we may need to use in order to live in various cities or townships for any amount of time,” he explained. “And then Asgard. I am not happy about having to go there for the memories of Humans are not so short that they will have forgotten me, but the common people like me enough, and I have acquaintances there who will be willing to help us. We wills stay there while I attempt to find work, likely with a pilgrimage on a trip to Palmacosta, and then after that … I suppose we will have to discuss it when the time comes.”

“So we’ll be going from place to place a lot, right?”

The look he gave her told her that should have been obvious. “Yes.”

“Good,” Anna didn’t elaborate, but maybe that would help her find Grace and Troy, and anyone in her family who was still alive.

Kratos gave her a long look and then straightened his back and looked toward the door. “Are you ready, Miss Irving? Once we exit that door there is no turning back.”

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, Anna stared at his back and then stepped to his side.

“I’m ready, Aurion.”

The door slid open. 


End file.
